Power Play
by Rick Peterson
Summary: You just know that President Lex has something truly nefarious planned. This is it. Sequel to Another Sunday Dinner at Wayne Manor. Finally Completed!
1. Plans & Stratagems

Power Play

You just know that President Lex has something truly nefarious planned.  This is it.  This story takes place immediately after "Graduation Day" and contains spoilers for that miniseries.  Nothing after that, and in particular the new Outsiders, Teen Titans and Superman/Batman series and JLA issues after #79, are in continuity for this story.  The story follows "Sunday Dinner at Wayne Manor" and "Another Sunday Dinner at Wayne Manor".

All characters are the property of DC Comics.  No money is being made on this story and no infringement of copyright is intended.

Prologue: Mourning 

There was no other word for it; Themyscira was beautiful.  The sky was a deeper blue, the sunlight more luminous, the foliage more lush, the earth richer than in our World.  The breeze off the ocean had a fresher smell and cooled the heat of the day just the right amount, so that you were neither too warm nor too cold.  Here, believing in Diana's gods and goddesses seemed reasonable, for surely some power had blessed this place.  Seeing her home made a lot about Diana more understandable.  Had the circumstances been different, I would have been pleased and honored to be invited to here.  As it was, I felt honored but none of us were pleased.

She stood in front of the grave of her sister, grief etched into her bearing.  I stood back and watched her.  The hillside had been covered with the bright costumes of Earth's heroes, but now that the service was over the others slowly drifted away, until only the two of us were left.  I knew I should do something to comfort her, but what comfort could there be?  Donna was dead and nothing any of us could do could change that.  Still, I had to try.  I walked forward and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Diana."  I paused, not knowing what to say.

"She never knew," she stated dully.  "It was the most important thing in my life and I never told her."

She turned and looked at me with tormented eyes.  "She was my sister and I never told her that I loved you."

The past tense drove an icy spike of fear through my heart.  "I'm sorry," I told her, "I was wrong."

She didn't react.  I couldn't tell if she even heard me.  She turned back to the grave.  "Just go.  Please, just leave me alone."

I said the only thing I could think of.  "I love you."  Then I turned and walked away.

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Chapter 1: Plans and Stratagems

"So are we agreed that we need to intervene in the situation on D'K'Nor?" Superman asked, surveying the members of the JLA assembled around the meeting room table in the Watchtower.

I looked up from the laptop I had been working on.

"You know my views," I told him.

Superman sighed.  "You saw the evidence, Batman," he responded.  "Heck, you helped me correlate it.  Possible conquest is one thing.  Genocide is another."

I wanted to argue.  I wanted to tell him it wasn't worth the risk to Earth.  Not at this time.  And I thought of the scorn Diana would pour on such an attitude.  I glanced involuntarily at her empty seat.

And she would be right.  I sighed.

"Finish up as quickly as you can," I told him.  Superman looked surprised at my acquiescence.  "The Belle Reeve situation is heating up.  I need you all back as soon as possible."

"Belle Reeve?" asked Paul Booker, Major Disaster, one-time supervillain and present day member of the JLA.  "I spent some time there.  But I thought all the supervillain-types had been shifted over to the Slab."

"No.  The Slab," the federal government's top-security lock-up for the most dangerous beings on the planet, "is dangerously overcrowded, so they've reopened Belle Reeve, supposedly for the second-tier villains.  But some very dangerous cases have been shifted there and a number have then disappeared off the books.  Supposedly sent back to the Slab, except the Slab has no record of them either."

Booker looked disturbed.  "You think the Suicide Squad is back in business?" he asked.  The Suicide Squad was a top-secret government team intended for situations where the casualty rate was likely to be unacceptably high (hence the name) or 'plausible deniability' was important.  Its members had been supervillains recruited from prison by promises of reduced sentences or presidential clemency.  It had been under the control of Amanda Waller, Luthor's Secretary for Meta-Human Affairs.  While I sometimes disagreed with her goals and always with her methods, 'The Wall' had her own strict code of ethics and stuck to it.  Booker had been involved with the Suicide Squad at one point, I remembered.

"No," I said.  "The Suicide Squad imploded after their fight with the Jihad, a team of super-powered terrorists.  That battle was too public and Waller shut it down to avoid 'blow back'."

"Maybe they are reviving it under another name," Superman suggested, looking less than pleased at the thought.

"Maybe," I conceded, although I was certain it was nothing so benign.  I wasn't prepared to share my reasons with the rest of the JLA just yet, however.

"We had planned to take the same team as we used against the 'Peacemaker'," Superman said.  "But if you think there is an imminent threat, we could leave one of the team behind."

"Actually, I...." started Booker.

"No," I responded instantly.  "You are already short one member with Wonder Woman on bereavement leave.  If you're too weak, you risk being defeated.  I would rather you took Firestorm with you to make up for Diana's absence."  I turned to Firestorm and added, "If that's acceptable to you?"

Firestorm looked uncomfortable with the idea, so I pinned him with my gaze until he muttered, "Sure, okay."

"Good.  Then...."

"Uh, guys," Booker interrupted, looking embarrassed.  "I hate to do this, since I was one of the ones who argued for intervening, but I need to sit this one out."

His eyes flicked towards Dawn and my interest shot up.  Neither she nor her husband, Raven Manitou, seemed to notice, but I noticed that they were sitting well apart rather than side by side as they had in the past.  Booker continued, "I have some personal things I need to get straightened out.  Sorry."

Superman raised his eyebrows; Green Lantern clouded up; Faith looked annoyed.

"You'll be available if we need you locally?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah!  Sure!  Definitely!"

I said, "Perhaps Flash would cover for you this once."  Flash, who had been impatiently checking his watch, looked up in dismay.  But he grudgingly nodded.

"Are you sure, Batman?" Superman asked.  "That will leave you short-handed if a crisis breaks on Earth.  With the Titans and Young Justice disbanded, that doesn't leave you with a whole lot of backup."

"If necessary, we can call up J'onn, Plastic Man, Diana and the JLA reserves, not to mention the JSA.  And just because the Titans and Young Justice have disbanded, doesn't mean those heroes aren't still available.  Just get it done and get back as quickly as you can.  When this blows open, I suspect we will need the whole team to deal with it."

Superman nodded.  "Then everybody has one hour to get ready.  We'll meet back here at," he glanced at the clock, "1900 hours."

Everybody stood up.  I stepped over to Booker and clapped him on the shoulder.  He turned and I fixed him with my gaze.  "We may need you at a moment's notice.  Can we count on you?"

Booker squared his shoulders and puffed out his chest.  "Yes, sir!" he barked out.  For a moment, I thought he might salute.  I nodded and let him go.  As soon as he was out of the room, the Flash zipped over next to me while the Atom moved his miniature floating chair closer and Superman looked on.

"Linda will have my head," he complained, but without much force.  "Uh, you really think this is a good idea?  I don't think you can count on Major Dork.  'Personal matters'?  How flaky is that?"

"I don't know Flash.  How flaky is it to run through a $2 million windfall and end up deep in debt, sleeping with a married woman and with your psychotic ex-girlfriend thirsting for your blood?"

"Hey!" he objected.  "That's not fair.  I didn't know she was married!"

"The point is that you straightened out your life, but it took some time.  And you weren't under treatment for paranoid schizophrenia, with a reputation as a supervillain to live down and a bunch of dubious friends from a previous life to deal with."

"He's schizophrenic?" The Flash asked, thunderstruck.  "You let a schizophrenic into the League?"

"He's one of the most powerful beings on Earth and he's trying to reform.  Where would you want him?  Running loose unsupervised or in the League?"

"I never thought you were the type to just accept his word that he's reformed," muttered the Flash.

I sighed.  "I always hope they'll reform.  I just don't count on it.  And if he's going to be a problem, I prefer him under my eye.  I meant what I said, Wally," I told him, "I need this over and all of you back here.  This matter has Luthor's fingerprints all over it."  I surveyed their expressions.  I could see they got it.  We all knew Luthor was up to something and we all knew he wouldn't go down easy.

"And don't forget," I added, "I have Ray here."  I nodded at the Atom.  "People tend to underestimate what he can do."

The Flash and Superman nodded at that.  They knew what the Atom was capable of.

The Flash sighed.  He wasn't happy but he would go along, as I knew he would.  "Okay," he said.  "We'll do it your way.  As usual."

He grinned.  "In the meantime," he told us, "I have to mend fences with Linda."  He winked.  "Not everything can be done at superspeed, you know."  Then, with a swoosh!, he was gone.

In the meantime, the Atom had maneuvered his chair behind and above me and was looking at the laptop screen.  "DNA match?" he asked.

I should have closed the laptop.  Sloppy.  Not that I objected to the Atom knowing, but it was habit not to share information except on a need-to-know basis.  Then I reminded myself that that attitude had probably cost me the woman I loved.  The Atom was an ally and the more he knew of the situation, the more effective he would be.

"Yes," I told him.

"Why do it by hand?" he asked.  "Why not let the computer do the match?"

I sighed.  This was what answering questions got you: more questions.  "I started with a computer search; it came up with this match.  I wanted to double-check it, first because the sample had deteriorated and secondly because the person it matched is dead."

Both the Atom and Superman looked interested.  "Who did it match?" Ray asked.

I told them.  Clark's eyes widened.

"Exactly," I said.  "An agent of Oracle's collected a tissue sample from a holding cell, a very special holding cell, in Belle Reeve.  He had left a bit of skin there."  I cocked an eye at Clark.

"His heart stopped," Clark said.  "I heard it stop.  But he had mutated so far by then, who knows?"

"DNA can survive for a long time," Ray said.  "They've recovered it from graves a thousand years old.  Maybe that tissue had been there for years."  But I knew he didn't really buy that explanation.

"Oracle got suspicious because there was evidence that cell had been used recently.  And, according to the Metropolis Coroner's Office, his body was collected by S.T.A.R. Labs the day he 'died'." 

"The same day?" Ray asked, surprised.  "Didn't they do an autopsy?"

"No record of one," I told him, "and S.T.A.R. Labs records end two days later.  They took some tissue samples and such and then, nothing.  I have someone who will be searching the place tonight, but I doubt she will find anything."

After a moment's silence, Clark said, "You know how his powers increased after his encounter with Strange Visitor?"

I nodded.

"Now I'm REALLY concerned about leaving you so short-handed.  Are you sure...."

"I agree with Batman on this," Ray interjected.  "With this guy loose, it's best to have the big boys out of the way, where he can't get at them."

"And the stronger you are, the quicker the invaders will fold.  Besides, this isn't something that raw power can fix.  We have to outsmart Luthor, not outfight him.  Speaking of which..." I pulled up a diagram on the laptop, "... follow this trajectory on leaving.  It minimizes your exposure to the HDC's Deep Space Monitoring Network.  We'll be jamming them the whole way.  That way, nobody should know you've left."

Ray and Clark both looked at me.  "Won't the fact that you're jamming them give us away?" Clark asked.

"I've been randomly jamming the network for months, for just that reason," I explained.  "Interestingly enough, no one's complained."

Clark blinked.  Ray asked, "And if an alien invasion just happened to hit while you were jamming our one way of spotting it in time to do something about it?"

"It's just one sector and I'm more concerned about threats nearer to home," I told him.  "Statistically, the chance of that happening is negligible."

Ray looked at me.  "If you've been doing it randomly then it will be a while before anyone notices anything if you DON'T DO IT after today."

Ray can be quite forceful when he chooses to be.  I grunted.  "I can give you a week," I told him.

"Then we will have this discussion again in a week."  He left.  That just left Clark and me.

"Don't say it, Clark."

"I have to, Bruce.  She's hurting and she needs you.  Go to her."

"No."

"Damn it, Bruce!  I love her too!"

I sighed.  He clearly wasn't going to leave this alone.  I spun my chair around to confront him.

He stared back at me.  "Not the same way, I admit," he said, "but she is one of my closest friends and I care about her.  A lot."

I raised an eyebrow.  He knew then.  Not surprising, since he could, without even trying, observe blood pressure, pupil dilation, muscle tension and all the little taletells that give a person away.

"Then you go comfort her."

"You think I haven't tried?  I'm not the one she needs."

I turned back to the laptop.  "Neither am I.  She made that abundantly clear."

He sighed in defeat and left.

I opened a dialog box to Oracle.  No video, which meant less bandwidth so it was more difficult to intercept and easier to encrypt.

Oracle

Here, Boss

Attached is DNA match for BR13

Yikes!  Him?

Affirmative.  Update contingency plans accordingly.  Also upgrade subject 8 to highest priority surveillance.  I planted a tracer on him before he left, but that is only good until he changes clothes.  I want him covered by then.  No gaps, no slip-ups.  Also upgrade subject 12 to category 2 surveillance.  Am particularly interested in any meetings.

Paranoid much, Boss?

Always.  Instruct the non-combatants to relocate to the designated secure locations within the next 24 hours.

Double Yikes!  You think he will strike while the bulk of the JLA is off world?

Since no one was there to see, I allowed myself a smile.  Oracle might be a league reservist these days, but nothing happened at the Watchtower that she didn't know about.

Affirmative.  Out.

That done, I opened my mind up to contact my second back-up.

'J'onn?'

'Here Batman.'

'Here is the latest information.'

I brought it to the front of my mind and he read it off.  Few people realize what an incredible mind he has.  He can absorb huge amounts of information, process it and instantly recall it as needed.  He is also easily the most powerful of us.  As a species, Martians are at least as far beyond us as we are beyond chimpanzees.  It would be very easy to fear him.  He is also one of the few people I call a friend.

'That's it.'

'Acknowledged.'

My natural preference was to end the 'conversation' right there.  But I reminded myself again that I had vowed to change.

'Sorry to keep interrupting your sabbatical.'

'Not at all, Batman.  I understand the importance of this.'

'How is it coming?'

'Very well.  My aversion to fire is considerably lessened.'

'That's good, J'onn.  That's very good.'

'Thank you.'

I wanted to say more, but I didn't know what to say or, more accurately, how to say it.  Some of this must have leaked across, because J'onn replied, 'I understand, Batman, I love you too.'

My shock clearly communicated itself to J'onn, for he gave the mental equivalent of a chuckle and added, 'In a purely platonic sense, of course.  I have to go.  Scorch is back for the next session.  I believe she is making progress as well, although more slowly.'

I shook my head and tried to gather my thoughts.  I considered J'onn a friend, but to say I loved him?  I had never even said that to Dick.  Considering what I feared was coming, that suddenly seemed a horrible omission.  I checked the time.  It was already dark in Gotham.  I should be starting my patrol in less than an hour and I had several errands still to run.  It would have to wait.  I double-checked that I had programmed things properly, shut down my laptop and headed for the teleporter tubes.

Author's Notes: This story, at least if it goes as I intend, is going to be long and spread over many chapters.  I will try to update it regularly, but the Real World does tend to interfere at times.  Major Disaster has been portrayed in strikingly different fashions over his career.  It has even been implied (in Suicide Squad) that there might be two of them – identical twins separated at birth, no doubt.  I like my explanation better.


	2. Like a Thief in the Night

Chapter 2: Like a Thief in the Night

All characters are the property of DC Comics.  No money is being made on this story and no infringement of copyright is intended.

The sun had set by the time the meeting finished up.  Hera, how much more tiring it is to sit in a meeting than to fight for your life!  Phillipus had asked that I take a part of this time at home to bring them up to date on my mission in Patriarch's World.  At the end of my report, I felt obliged to admit how discouraged I felt that I had not been able to make more of a difference.  I was very surprised when Phillipus had laughed and told how much it seemed to them.  The other Amazons, who remembered their enslavement by Heracles, had never expected Patriarch's World to change quickly or easily.  They were still surprised that it changed at all.  Menalippe told me that I would see things differently once I had lived a bit longer, say a few hundred years.  In that time, who knew what changes might be possible?

I know they meant to encourage me, but the thought that I might have to wait several hundred years to see real change depressed me instead.  I hurriedly collected the offering to burn at Donna's grave and headed down the path leading to it.  I felt once more the terrible guilt overcome me.  Guilt that I was alive and Donna dead.  Guilt that in the last weeks I had not shared with her what was most important to me, had in fact hardly spoken more than a few words at a time to her, lest I let slip what Bruce wanted kept secret.  Guilt that I had not known what was happening with her.  Dick and several of the other long-time Titans had stayed on Themyscira after the ceremony and we had shared memories and stories of Donna.  It was only then that I had learned of the terrible nightmares that had beset Donna in her last months.  If I had shared my news with her, instead of avoiding her, would she have shared hers?

I turned the corner and stopped.  There was something there, in front of Donna's grave, something dark and shapeless.  Then he stood up and I saw the roses he had lain in front of her statue and, even before he turned around, I knew who it was.

"You!"

Batman blinked and averted his gaze.  "Diana," he said in a neutral voice.

"What are you doing here?"

For a long moment, I thought he wouldn't answer.  Then he said, "You aren't the only one who mourns her passing."

"You?" I said scornfully.  "You hardly knew her."

"You're right.  I never bothered to get to know her.  Isn't that a reason to mourn?  She was one of my son's closest friends and he blames himself for her death.  Isn't that a reason to mourn?  She was your sister and you miss her bitterly.  Isn't that a reason to mourn?  She was a great hero in her own right.  Isn't that a reason to mourn?"

He turned back to gaze on Donna's grave and, in a whisper, added, "And she is yet another I failed to save."  He turned back, still refusing to look at me.  "I mourn them all, each and everyone of them."

"Do you put flowers on all their graves?" I asked skeptically.

"At least once.  I try to return on anniversaries, but there are too many to do that regularly."

He moved to pass me on the path, but I put out my arm to stop him.

"And do you have to come like a thief in the night?" I asked with a bitterness I had not realized I felt.  "Sneaking in and out without a word to anyone?"

"You made it clear you didn't want to see me.  I was trying to conform to your wishes."

I laughed; a bitter old woman's laugh.  "I said 'go away' and you assume it's forever?  Is that it?  Can you not even bring yourself to look at me anymore?  Bruce, if you are trying to make me angry, you are going about it the right way."

He looked at me then, with an intensity and longing that took my breath away.  "Diana..."

He stopped and held a hand to his ear.  "Go ahead, Oracle....  You're breaking up, switch to another channel.... Oracle, are you there?  Oracle?"

He frowned and closed his eyes.  Then he stiffened; a shudder passed through him and a groan of the purest agony escaped from between his gritted teeth.  I caught him before he hit the ground.

"J'onn," he sighed.

J'onn?  Automatically, I reached mentally for that link with J'onn which we all had shared for so long.

'J'onn?  Are you there?'

Suddenly, I was inundated with pain; burning, wracking pain.  The very air seemed to sear my lungs.

'I burn, I burn!  H'ronmeer, the pain!  Help me!  Help me!'  Then nothing.

I cringed, not daring to breathe until my body screamed for air.  I pulled in a wracking, sobbing breath and the air was cool and clean again.

'J'onn?'

Nothing.

Batman was climbing to his feet.  "Do you have your invisible plane here?"

"Yes."  I gestured towards the field where I had landed it days ago.

"Get us there fast," he commanded.  I grabbed him under the arms and flew towards the plane.  "Wouldn't the teleporters be quicker?"

He shook his head.  "No, the teleporters..."

Suddenly, the night was as bright as day.  Startled, I looked up to see the moon brilliantly illuminated by a rapidly expanding fireball where the Watchtower had been.

Batman continued, as if nothing had happened, "...are no longer secure."


	3. Flying to the Rescue

Chapter 3: Flying to the Rescue

All characters are the property of DC Comics.  No money is being made on this story and no infringement of copyright is intended.

I dropped Bruce into the backseat and landed in the front one.

"Plane, take off.  Get us to J'onn J'onzz's last known location as fast as possible."

I was pressed down in my seat as the invisible plane took off vertically.  I hurried belted myself in as, almost immediately, the plane shifted into forward motion.  We were pinned back into our seats as the plane accelerated to Mach 12.

"Diana, I need to re-establish communications."

"Plane, do what Batman asks."

I heard him muttering orders in the backseat, but blocked it out of my mind.  Instead, I focused again on the mental link with J'onn.

'J'onn?'

Nothing.

"Damn and Blast!"

"Batman?"  I had never heard him curse before.

"Triple back-ups and still the warning didn't get out!"

"Warning?  Were you expecting this?"

"It was the obvious time for Luthor to strike, with most of the JLA off on a mission in space...."

"Oh? D'K'Nor?"

"...I was hoping it might lure him into attacking before he was really ready...."

"Well, that worked well," I commented dryly.

"You can tell me that when this is over, PRINCESS."

I was taken aback by the anger in his voice.

He continued, in his usual cold voice, "Fortunately, the plane's Lansinarian technology was able to overcome the jamming.  We're going to have to play clean up, picking up all those who didn't get the warning in time to make it to secure locations.  The invisible plane is perfect for that role, since it – and anything inside it – is invisible, not just to human sight but to radar, infrared and clear across the electromagnetic spectrum.  And it will alter itself at your command.  We are going to need more seating."

"How many people are we talking about?"

"Plane, put the scan on Diana's display."

In the air in front of me, an outline make of the United States suddenly appeared.  There were half a dozen pulsing red dots on the map.  As I watched, a seventh appeared.

"Each dot represents a pick-up.  Most will be a single person -- either a hero or someone close to them who might be grabbed as a hostage -- but some will be multiples.  This is only the start.  There will be more.  I'm trying to calculate a minimum time flight plan to pick them all up.  Obviously, that will have to change with the situation, but the first pick up is Metropolis."

"No."  He raised an eyebrow.  "First we go to J'onn's rescue."

"Diana," his voice was uncharacteristically gentle, "you can't make reach him either, can you?"

"I won't accept that!"

"We can't help him, Diana, but we can help these other people."

I shook my head stubbornly but, as I did, I saw another dot appear on the screen.  I couldn't help remembering what Bruce had said to me on our first date: If someone died ... you would mourn them and then you would throw yourself back into the battle.  Oh J'onn, I thought, there isn't even time to mourn you.  But I will, when there is time, I will.

"Metropolis?"

He nodded.  The invisible plane tore through the black, roiling storm clouds separating Themyscira from Patriarch's World.

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Gypsy glanced around the shattered, burning wreck of the Capitol building.  They crouched in an out of the way corner, against one of the few semi-intact walls in the place.  The roof – what had been the roof – littered the floor.  They had escaped the falling stone and Gypsy's illusion powers had protected them from direct attack, but the fires were spreading.  They had to get out.  She knew most of the people had escaped out of the various underground passages leading to the Senate and Congressional office buildings and to the White House.  The secret service men had taken Luthor out that way, what was left of him.  But not everyone had made it out.  There were bodies in among the rubble.  And there were her three strays, which she had to get out, somehow.  Where was the backup Batman had promised?

She had been taken off guard by the suddenness and violence of the attack.  One moment everything was normal, if an emergency joint session of Congress could be called normal.  It was a closed-door session, no visitors allowed, but of course – with her camouflage powers – that hadn't been a problem.  Her only problem was controlling her fury at Luthor's speech.  Surely Congress wouldn't buy his crap?  She pulled out the comlink Batman had given, for he needed to know about this.  And then, quite literally, the roof fell in.

The attackers glided in leisurely through the hole they had blasted in the capitol roof and she was frozen in shock at the sight of them.  Not so the Secret Service agents guarding the president.  They opened fire immediately and not with Uzis and pistols, but with high-tech blasters of some sort.  Much good it did them, Gypsy thought bitterly.  Several of the agents were burned down where they stood.  And then a bolt of green plasma hit Luthor square in the chest.

He was dead, Gypsy thought.  He must be, he couldn't survive a blow like that.  She had been too surprised to save Luthor – and couldn't quite bring herself to feel sorry about it.  But his death broke her out of her shocked immobility.  Even before his body hit the floor, she was moving.  She wasn't sure what she could do, for the attackers could easily annihilate them all.

But they didn't.  They seemed content to blast random holes in the walls, floor and what remained of the roof while ignoring the fleeing people.  Except for their leader.  He floated above the fray, scanning the crowd.  Then he pointed and where he pointed, someone died, burned alive or blasted by a bolt of green plasma.

Gypsy was too far away to save the first.  She thought it was Senator Burns, but she wasn't sure.  The next, Congressman Zabrowski, she managed to knock out of the way just in time, covering them both with an illusion of the man being hit and falling.  The illusion had apparently been convincing: they were still alive.  How she managed to keep them both safe and rescue Senator Connelly at the same time, she was never afterwards sure, for she could maintain only one illusion at a time.  She had done it, that was all that.  Her third stray she found hiding under a desk.  She thought he was a congressman, but she wasn't sure.

In a way, she was surprised they came with her.  Batman's briefing had prepared her – somewhat, if he had expected THIS he certainly hadn't told her! – but she knew how it must appear to them.  Of course, the threat of imminent death was a strong motivator.

Gypsy looked around again.  None of the attackers were in view and the sounds of battle were diminishing.  Occasionally she could hear a whine, like that made by the high-tech blasters the Secret Service agents used but deeper.  Maybe a more powerful version of their hand guns.  The sounds seemed to come from outside; reinforcements, Gypsy supposed.  She couldn't remember ever having been so frightened.

She looked at the comlink Batman had given her.  The first button, which was supposed to bring immediate backup, had gotten her nothing.  The audio channel, which was supposed to connect her with someone who could call up further support, produced only static.  That left only one other choice.  She grimaced and pressed the second button.  Hopefully that would accomplish SOMETHING.  She looked back at the others.

"We have to go or the fire will get us.  Keep close to me."  The others looked back at her with terror in their eyes.  She shook her head irritably.  "Come ON."  She turned and started scrambling over the wreckage.  If they wanted to stay and burn to death, let them.  But she heard noise behind her indicating that the others were following.

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Yet another dot appeared on my display.  There were by now too many to count.  But this one seemed to mean something to Batman, for he started to curse again.

"Course change.  We need to make an emergency pick up in Washington, D.C."

I nodded and altered course.  "We are just a few minutes out."  A frisson of fear stabbed through me.  "It's not the Themysciran embassy?"

"No.  I had Gypsy watching the Capitol building.  Something's obviously happened there."  It took a moment but I remembered Gypsy: a teenager in a patchwork dress.  She might be eighteen or nineteen now, no older.

"Why the Capitol building?" I wondered.

"Ever hear of the Reichstag fire?"

I nodded.  "Hitler used the incident to push through legislation granting him dictatorial powers.  You think Luthor is going to try something similar?"

I turned to look at him.  Batman nodded.  "That's why I put Gypsy there.  Luthor knows his history and is not above borrowing a good idea."

"And you thought she could stop it by herself?"

Did he redden slightly?  "I arranged backup," he answered gruffly.

I looked at him questioningly.  Yes, definitely reddening.

"Who?"

He didn't answer for a long moment.  Then, grudgingly, he said, "Impulse."

"Impulse?  You trusted IMPULSE?  With something IMPORTANT?"

He was beet red now.  "He performed well against the Joker.  Besides, there were not many alternatives.  Speedsters are scarce at the moment, with the Flash on D'K'Nor, Jesse Quick semi-retired to concentrate on her business and the JSA ignoring my warnings."

"They did?"

"When you've been around as long as we have, kid," he replied in perfect mimicry of Wildcat, "you'll know that these guys come and go.  Sure he's a crook.  So was Nixon.  Hell, half the politicos back in the forties were crooks.  But Luthor's not stupid enough to mess with US."

I shook my head in amusement.  "How very foolish of them."

Batman looked grim.  "And how much is it going to cost them, and us?"

Suddenly it wasn't funny anymore.  I turned back.  My heart felt cold.  I had lost too many people lately.  My mother, Trevor Barnes, my sister Donna and now J'onn.  No more deaths.  I wasn't sure whether it was a promise or a prayer.  I just knew I could not tolerate any more deaths.

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So far, so good, Gypsy thought.  She had led them along the wall to a doorway.  It was hard to be sure, everything looked so different now and the smoke was getting thick, but she thought that through this doorway was a short corridor leading out of the ruined building.  And what then?  She just hoped that her backup would finally arrive and get them OUT of here.

She looked carefully around the corner and straight into the red, burning eyes of J'onn J'onzz, the Martian Manhunter.

He grinned evilly.  "I thought I sensed someone still here.  Say good-bye, my dear."

Author's Notes: My description of the Invisible plane's abilities is based on John Byrne's description in WW #117 – the first appearance of the latest incarnation of the Invisible plane.  The bit about it also being invisible to radar, infrared, etc is complete invention on my part, but it seems plausible.  There wouldn't be much point in the Lansinarians (who built it) to make the plane invisible just to the visible part of the spectrum.  I know Greg Rucka, the present Wonder Woman writer, has expressed the opposite opinion, but Byrne states clearly in WW #132 that the occupants of the invisible plane are also invisible.  So too bad, Rucka!  ;-)  The plane is not, however, silent – as Walter Simonson has made clear in several recent issues of Wonder Woman.  Impulse helped the Batman fight the Joker in issue #50 of his comic.

Gypsy is from the generally unlamented 'Detroit' Justice League.  I have always liked her.  She has put in a few appearances since then, the latest (that I know of) in Justice League: Incarnations.  Her power is the ability to cast a single illusion at a time, either to hide someone – usually herself and (on at least one occasion) people next to her – or (more offensively) she can cast an illusion which affects only one person but completely overwhelms reality for that person.  She temporarily took out Despero that way.  I have assumed that in the intervening years, her control of her illusions has improved but otherwise her powers are unchanged.  When she was in the League, she was very close to J'onn J'onzz.


	4. Smoke & Mirrors

Chapter 4: Smoke and Mirrors

All characters are the property of DC Comics.  No money is being made on this story and no infringement of copyright is intended.

"We're coming up on Washington," I told Batman.  "Can you locate Gypsy more precisely?"

"I can activate the GPS locator within her comlink.  It will give me her position to within a meter," he answered.  A moment later, he added,  "It looks like she is still inside the Capitol building.  Southwest corner of the house chamber.  They'll likely to be shooting at any costumes they see.  We need to make a stealthy approach.  You stay with the plane and I'll...."

"No," I told him.  "We don't have time for a stealthy approach."  I mentally ordered the forward cockpit to open and leapt from the plane.

A roiling cloud of smoke rose from the Capitol building.  It was hard to make out details, but there appeared to be gaping holes in the central dome.  Most of the smoke, however, was coming from the south wing, where the house chamber was located.  I could make out tanks and heavy weapons positioned around the building.  Bolts of energy sprang up from the ground at intervals, although at what - if anything - they were aimed, I could not tell.

My best chance seemed to lie in speed.  I was confident I could get past the defenders before they could react.  Getting out again might be more problematic.  I called forth all the speed Hermes had granted me and flew towards the south wing.

As I approached closer, I could see soldiers all around the building.  Many lay still and unmoving.  Cold clutched at my heart but it was clear that any attempt to succor them was likely to only result in more casualties.

There were shots.  Several soldiers fired bolts of energy at me, as did one of the tanks, but none came close.  I concentrated on stopping before I smashed into the roof.

But most of the roof was simply not there.  I flew slowly down into the smoke, suppressing the urge to cough and ready for anything.

Anything, except what I found before me.

The chamber was strewn with the rubble of smashed desks, shattered seats and the broken roof.  But what drew my attention was the figure thrashing around in the middle of the chamber, as if playing Blindman's Bluff.

"J'onn!  You're alive!"

I flew to join him.

"Wonder Woman, no!  That's not...."

I turned my head, looking for the source of the voice, as I had seen no one else.

Wham!  The blow knocked me back across the chamber and into a wall.  I picked myself up and looked at the creature again.  The impersonation was complete - no detail was wrong - but I am not easily lied to and I knew.

"You are not J'onn."

His smile was pure evil.  "No?"

I launched myself at him and ... flew right through him, smashing into the podium behind.  As I picked myself up, another blow smashed me to the floor.

"Have you forgotten I can turn intangible?"

Another blow knocked me back against the remains of the podium.  I rolled onto my back and saw... no one.

"Or invisible?"

A blow knocked my head back.  I brought up my arms, but that didn't stop a blow to my solar plexus followed by another blow to my head.

Suddenly the blows stopped.

"Where did you go?" my opponent bellowed and now his voice sounded nothing like J'onn's.  It was deeper and rougher.  I shook my head to clear it and looked around.  I could still not see my attacker but in one corner a young woman with short black hair in a red, gray and gold costume crouched in front of three older men.

"Well, well, well," I heard the deep, rough voice say.  "You may have hidden the witch, girl, but it's going to cost you."

I had to do something or Gypsy would die. I knew I wasn't facing J'onn, which meant he hadn't actually turned intangible.  It must have been an illusion of some sort; probably his 'invisibility' was actually an illusion as well.  And I had just the thing for that.

My hands were reaching for my golden lasso before my mind had thought its way through to its conclusion.  I spun it rapidly over my head and snapped it towards one corner of the room, playing it out like a fishing line.  As it reached its maximum extent, I swung it around so the lasso swept across the room.

Halfway around it hit something.  Momentum caused the end of the lasso to wrap around and suddenly a huge, hulking figure was standing there.  For no one entangled in my golden lasso can lie and what is an illusion, but a sort of lie?

"Gorilla Grodd!" I yelled and he tried to turn towards me.  Before he could manage, I jerked on the lasso - yanking him off his feet - and he came flying towards me.  My fist smashed into his face, sending him flying backwards, then I jerked him back towards me.  After several rounds of playing the yo-yo, Grodd flew free of the lasso and hit the wall.  He slumped to the ground unconscious.  I gathered up my lasso and staggered over to the four people in the corner.  It was, I realized, the southwest corner of the chamber.

"Gypsy?" I gasped.

The young woman nodded.  I took a couple of deep breaths and felt the world steady.  I would have a fine set of bruises to show off shortly.  I offered a hand to Gypsy and helped her up.

"We need to get you all out of here."

She nodded, then her eyes slid past me.

"Look out!"

A violent blow knocked me forward into the wall.  Gypsy couldn't quite get out of the way in time.  My body slammed into her shoulder and smashed it back into the wall.  I heard something snap.  She gasped and fell to her knees.  I managed to stay on my feet and turned to face the new threat.  Soldiers poured through the north and east entrances to the chamber.  I recognized the uniform of the Human Defense Corps.  The HDC had been recently created by Luthor to defend the planet from alien invasion.  The soldiers were armed with high-tech energy weapons whose power I could personally vouch for.  A half dozen of these guns were already pointed at me and more soldiers were entering as I watched.

An officer followed the soldiers in and shouted, "What are you waiting for?  Kill them!"

My arms were a blur as I deflected the beams with my bracelets.  It was an effort after all the blows I had taken and more soldiers were joining in every moment.  They were spreading out as well.  Shortly, they would be firing from too many different angles for me to be able to block them all simultaneously.  Behind me, I heard Gypsy groan and climb to her feet.

"Hold your fire!"

Everyone's attention turned to the west entrance to the chamber, some thirty feet from where I stood, where another officer had appeared.  He was tall and powerfully built, although he limped slightly.  Gray hair poked out from under his helmet and he wore the insignia of a major.

The first officer clambered across the chamber, keeping well away from me, and expostulated, "But Major, my orders...."

"Yes, Lieutenant, what ARE your orders?"  The major's voice was soft, but with an edge of steel that warned he was not to be trifled with.

The Lieutenant, who had now reached the Major, replied truculently, "I'm to clear this wing and kill any metas encountered along with anyone found with them."

The major nodded to the three cowering men in the corner.  "Including members of congress?"

The Lieutenant's eyes narrowed with sudden suspicion.  "Anyone," he repeated.

"Good man!  I have to say that I wasn't sure you boys would have the stones to carry out your orders, but I was clearly wrong in your case.  However..." He turned to glance at us.  Gypsy had leaned herself back against the wall, cradling her injured left arm and staring at the officers.  The major's eyebrow quivered in an almost wink.  He turned back, showing us his silhouette; "...I have new orders."  He reached carefully into breast pocket - several of the soldiers were eyeing him doubtfully - and slowly pulled out a paper.

"The new orders are to take prisoners for interrogation."  He handed the paper to the lieutenant, who glowered suspiciously.

"But my orders...."

"What?" the major grinned.  "Never heard of the top brass changing their minds before?"

The lieutenant snorted at this and looked less suspicious

"I'll need a squad of your men to escort the prisoners."

"Sir, I don't have enough men to search this wing properly as it is!"

"I wasn't asking, lieutenant," the major replied with a snap in his voice.

A tough-looking older non-com spoke up.  "Pardon the interruption, sirs," he said, not sounding the least bit apologetic, "but Wonder Woman, at least, doesn't look like she's ready to be taken prisoner.  How do you plan to keep her under control?"

"You obviously haven't read your briefings," the Major replied in a tone of someone reaching the end of his patience.  "You tie her manacles together," he pointed at my bracelets, "and an amazon loses her powers."

He grinned lasciviously as he edged towards me, keeping out of the line of fire.  "They must be big into bondage on that island of theirs.  And that," he pointed at my lasso, "is the perfect thing to tie her up with.  It's unbreakable; not even Wonder Woman could break free of it."

He lifted the lasso off my belt and tied my bracelets together with it.  "And there's plenty left over to tie the others up with."

Gypsy hissed as he tied her hands together.  She was white with pain.  The three men made no resistance.

The major turned to the older non-com.  "Okay, sergeant, gather up your squad and let's get going.  Lieutenant, carry out your orders."

The other soldiers moved on into the Capitol building while the major ordered things to his satisfaction.

"You two men, you'll have to carry the gorilla between you.  I know he's heavy, but someone's got to do it.  You'll lead, so we don't risk you falling behind.  You two flank them and keep your eyes on that gorilla.  They can't use their weapons while they're carrying him. You two flank Wonder Woman.  The other woman is injured and the men don't look like they'll make trouble, so you," he pointed to the last soldier, "ought to be able to handle them.  The sergeant and I will follow behind where we can cover everyone.  Let's move out."

We passed out the west entrance and down a short corridor.  The two men struggling with the bulk of Gorilla Grodd set the pace.  Outside, the grounds were swarming with HDC soldiers, intermixed with DEO tactical teams and the occasional policeman.  Tanks were scattered around, as well as what looked like high-tech anti-aircraft guns.  I could imagine our reception, if we had appeared without our guards, and grinned.

"Where to now?" the sergeant asked.

The major pointed straight ahead.  "The National Mall."  The National Mall was a sward of lawn, a block wide and several blocks long, lined with national museums.  It was two long blocks away and I worried about whether Gypsy could make it.

She did.  The mall itself was surprisingly empty.  An occasional tank rolled along the roads and soldiers nervously guarded the museums, but the lawn itself appeared empty.

We had hardly set foot on it, when one of the guards carrying Grodd emitted a "oof!" and stopped.  He put his hand to his nose, while the other dropped Grodd, who fell face first on the ground, and reached in front of him.

"Major, there's something here, only it's like its invisible or something."

"That's because it IS invisible," growled a familiar voice that sounded not at all like the major.

My guards turned at this.  Their lapse was only momentarily, but it was enough.  My lasso dropped away from all our hands and I lashed out with both arms.  Both guards hit the ground, unconscious.  Two batarangs flew past, taking out the two guards flanking Grodd.

The two who had been carrying Grodd turned and tried to raise their weapons.  I flew past Gypsy and knocked their heads together.  They slumped to the ground.  By the time I turned around, Gypsy had taken care of her guard.  I looked back and saw the sergeant laid out next to Batman.  He clearly had taken him out first.

I looked at him and opened my mouth to speak... and he said, "We'll need more passenger room." He jerked his head toward the invisible plane.

I nodded and - unseen by the others - the passenger compartment expanded to seat six.  I coiled up my lasso and then I lifted Grodd in one hand and flew him up and dropped him in the special locked cell that had just formed in the plane.

Batman turned to Gypsy and carefully felt her left arm.  Ignoring her hiss of pain, he produced a roll of tape from his utility belt and taped her arm to her body.

As he did it, she gasped, "Batman, I'm sorry.  I froze.  They looked like the JLA and I was so surprised, I froze.  They killed Luthor, they killed Burns.  I was too slow, I couldn't stop them.  I'm sorry."

Batman paused.  "I should have expected this.  Clever, Luthor, clever."

"How can it be clever?" Gypsy asked.  "He's DEAD."

Batman turned and looked at the others.

"We're leaving.  You've seen the danger you stand in here.  I can't make you come with us, but I strongly advise you to do so.  When the military has orders to kill members of congress, it's clear there is more to the situation than the obvious.  I can explain to you what is really going on, but to hear that explanation, you will have to come with us.  There's no time right now."

One of the three asked, "You're not a soldier.  Who ARE you?"

Batman unbuttoned his HDC uniform and stepped out of it.  Beneath was his other uniform.

The man gasped.  Another muttered, "I thought he was just an urban legend."

The first man said, "You're one of them, the ones who want to kill us."

"It wasn't the Justice League that attacked the Capitol, Congressman Jackson, just as it wasn't the Martian Manhunter who tried to kill you.  As for us," his gesture included Gypsy and me, "if we wanted to kill you, you'd be dead right now."

"I'm not going to stand here and be threatened like that!"  He looked to the others.  "And you're crazy if you trust them!"  Then he turned and ran away.

The other two looked uneasily at each other.

I landed next to them and spoke.  "Gentleman, Gypsy saved your lives when the Capitol was attacked, we saved your lives from Gorilla Grodd and the Batman saved your lives from the soldiers.  We will continue to save your lives, if you let us.  But you must decide now.  We've attracted too much attention," I gestured to the approaching soldiers, "and we must leave NOW."

"The choice is simple," Batman told them, "come with us or stay here and take your chances with soldiers who have orders to kill anyone found with a meta.  Always keeping in mind that, like Grodd, the next person you meet may not be who they seem to be."

The younger man said, abruptly, "I don't know about you, Harry, but I think my chances are better with them."

The other nodded.  "Okay, Piotr, let's go."

I grabbed an arm of each and lifted them into the passenger compartment of the plane.  Then I very carefully lifted Gypsy in my arms although, from her gasp of pain, I knew I wasn't careful enough.  Once she was settled, I went forward to the pilot's seat.  Batman was already in the copilot's seat next to it, putting on his cape and cowl.

"Binding our bracelets together makes us lose our powers?"  I murmured.  "Tying me up with my own lasso?"

He shrugged.  "They bought it didn't they?"  He looked out at the troops that were closing in on us.  "I was able to land undetected in the noise and confusion.  I don't think we'll be so lucky taking off."

"Perhaps, but this is not an easy plane to hit.  Plane, take off."

Author's Notes: Due to Real World concerns, it will probably be about two weeks before I can post the next chapter.  At least this time I didn't stick you with a cliffhanger!  Between chapter 3 and 4 I found a map of Washington with a layout of the Capitol building, so my descriptions are a bit more realistic than they would otherwise have been.  The description of Gypsy's uniform is based on the appearance of her future self in JLA: Incarnations #5.  Gorilla Grodd's powers, of course, include great physical strength, telepathy, the ability to fire off mental blasts and the ability to manipulate other's minds.  In JLA: Incarnations #2 he makes others see what he wishes them to see.


	5. Metropolis Mayhem

Chapter 5: Metropolis Mayhem

All characters are the property of DC Comics.  No money is being made on this story and no infringement of copyright is intended.

"How you got that uniform is obvious," I told Batman as the plane took off straight up.  I thought of all the soldiers I had seen lying still and unmoving around the Capitol and on the National Mall.  "But how did you find a major's insignia and where did you get those orders?  Did you use the 'bat forgery kit' from your utility belt?"

The approaching soldiers could not see the plane, but they could hear it and started firing in our general direction.  I didn't think their weapons were powerful enough to seriously damage the invisible plane, but they were likely to draw the attention of tanks and heavy weapons which could.

Batman clearly understood what I had been thinking, for he told me, "Few of those soldiers were dead; most were just unconscious.  As for the orders, that was Gypsy's doing.  I just made sure she knew what was needed."

 I remembered the half-wink he had given us.  It had not been intended for me, but for Gypsy.  The tanks on the streets bordering the National Mall opened fire on us and, as we rose above the height of the surrounding museums, the anti-aircraft guns around the Capitol building joined in.

"The major's insignia came from my utility belt.  I'm carrying a variety of insignia."

A gout of flame engulfed the right wing.  The plane shuddered and began to tilt to the right.  I brought it back under control mentally and visualized the wing intact.  Immediately, the plane changed to conform to the image.

"Lucky hit," I commented, trying to ignore the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.  We were high enough now to clear any obstacle.  "Plane, full speed towards..." I glanced at Batman.

"Metropolis," he replied.  The plane's engines roared to full life, pinning us back in our seats.

"You were expecting Luthor to use the HDC against us?" I asked.

"It's obviously why he created it.  If he were really interested in stopping alien invasions, he would have formed a space force, not a high-tech ground combat force."

We had outraced the hostile fire.  I looked at the screen showing all the 'pick ups' we needed to make.  Fear filled me.  How could we possibly manage all of them?

Batman must have been thinking the same thing, for he said, "This is taking too long.  We have to split up."

He produced a gadget out of his belt and handed it to me.

"This will guide you to the pick up.  The screen shows you where the target is relative to you.  These buttons can page forward and back through the list of pick ups.  This button will activate the GPS locator in the signaler.  It will pinpoint the location of your pick up.  Don't use it until you are close.  The other side could use it to home in on them as well, if they realize what's going on.

"Which reminds me..." He turned towards the back of the plane, "…Gypsy, your comlink."

With an effort, Gypsy pulled the comlink out of a pocket in her jumpsuit and handed it to Batman.  He held it up.

"This button deactivates the emergency signal."

He pressed the button and the blinking red dot over Washington, D.C. disappeared.

"Your target is Lois Lane.  We'll meet back up at Keystone City.  Jay Garrick's house."

"And where will you be?"

"New York City.  JSA Headquarters."

He looked away.  "If, for any reason, we miss each other in Keystone City, take everyone to Atlantis.  That's where we'll assemble the survivors and plan our counterattack."

"Atlantis?" I asked incredulously.  "After the way they treated Arthur?"

"They feel grateful for our help during the 'Obsidian Age'," he replied curtly, "and they are one of the few places Luthor has to treat with kid gloves."

"Arthur always liked to remind us that he ruled over three-quarters of the World's surface," I mused.

Batman snorted.  "Their technology is the equal of any nation on Earth," he added.  "Also, Mera has promised us the communications and transportation we will need."

"I see Luthor isn't the only one to do his planning."

He nodded.

"All right, Atlantis it is.  The Gods be with you."

I leapt from the plane.

The flight was a short one.  As I approached Metropolis, I activated the GPS locator.  I took a bearing off of it and adjusted my path.  I rechecked the gadget half a minute later and found that, instead of ahead of me, Lois' location was off to the right.  Annoyed at having drifted off course, I adjusted my flight.  When I checked again a few seconds later, I found her location had drifted slightly to the right again.  I realized that Lois was moving.

Although it might be voluntary, I was very afraid she was a prisoner and being carted away.  I was entering the downtown area now.  Darting between skyscrapers, I found a street leading off to my right and flew down it at top speed.  Only when Batman's device showed that Lois was well behind me did I veer down the next street to my left.

I expected to come out ahead of the vehicle carrying Lois and I did.  I did not expect the scene confronting me when I darted past the last skyscraper.

The street was a broad boulevard, lined with department stores and old brownstones intermixed with skyscrapers.  A convoy of armored hover vans sped along it towards me, pursued by a single flying figure.  Most of the hover vans had a small turret on top and they were firing back at their pursuer with energy weapons, no doubt similar to the ones I had already encountered, but without much success.  I could see two wrecked hovercraft back along the boulevard and as I watched the figure caught up with the tail-end vehicle.  He swung a hammer up and then down and the hull of the hovercraft shattered beneath the blow.

That meant the pursuer must be Steel.  I prepared to join the attack when I heard a soft humming noise above me, almost like the sound of bees swarming.  I looked up and saw flying armored figures swooping down to intercept Steel.  I recognized them as Team Lex, LexCorp's high-tech goon squad.  They had apparently not seen me yet.

I instantly changed direction and zoomed straight up at them.  I flew up between two of them, grabbing an arm of each, and smashed them against each other.  They made a very satisfying crunch when they collided.

I paused a half second to make sure they could make it safely down without crashing.  That was a mistake.  The energy blast smashed into my back with a force that staggered me.

I recovered almost instantly and dodged the blasts that followed, deflecting several with my bracelets.  I grabbed one of the men as I passed and swung him in front of me as a shield.  He jerked as he was hit repeatedly by the energy blasts.

I had grabbed his arms to keep him from using the blasters built into his gauntlets.  With both hands full, I used my head.  One head butt smashed his visor; a second knocked him unconscious.  I swung him around and threw him into another.

Then I had to dodge energy blasts from the remaining men.  I lashed out as I passed one of the men, connecting with his upper arm.  I did not hold back and I felt metal and bone snap under the blow.

I swerved and dodged and came up behind another one.  I ripped the power pack from his back and watched as he spiraled down slowly towards the ground, smoke pouring from the wrecked suit.

Suddenly, I was alone as the survivors fled.  I looked down and gasped.  One of the men had ignored my attack and was swooping down on Steel.  Steel seemed completely unaware of him as he smashed yet another hover van.  Only one remained intact.

I called on all the speed Hermes had granted me and dove after him.  But even as I did, the man fired his energy blasters, catching Steel squarely and knocking him out of the sky.  Steel hit the ground and bounced, crashing into a parked car.  The Team Lex soldier fired again and the car exploded.

My heart jumped into my throat and I strained to go faster and still faster.  Steel stumbled out of the flames.  The man fired again, knocking Steel to his knees, and then went into a power dive straight at him.  He would hit like a bomb and I could not possibly reach him in time.

Then Steel stood and swung his hammer.  He connected with a shattering crash, knocking the Team Lex man off course and into a building.  He smashed through the wall and, from the sound of it, into the rear wall.

I had barely time and sense to stop myself from crashing into the ground.

I hovered above Steel and said, "I guess you didn't need my help after all."  Then I finally got a good look at him.  The armor, although obviously derived from Steel's armor, was different and the figure was smaller than the one I was used to.

"You aren't the Steel I know," I said, frowning.

"I'm Natasha, his niece," she replied cheerfully.  "But no time to discuss that now.  We still have to save Lois."

She took off after the hover van and I followed.  The occupants started firing again. As well as the turret, two men were firing from the open doors at the back of the van.  The volume of fire was impressive but the accuracy was nonexistent.  They were firing wildly, doing far more damage to the buildings lining the boulevard than to us.  This had to stop before innocent bystanders were killed.

I zoomed past Steel, straight for the car.  I used my bracelets to deflect the few blasts that came near me, then flew through the opened back doors with my arms spread.  I swept the two men in the door off their feet and threw them at the other soldier inside.

The battle was quickly over.  I heard a crash from the front of the van and it started slowing.  I knew that Steel had joined the fight.  I left the driver to her and, since there were no soldiers still conscious inside the van, I turned to Lois.  She had sensibly stayed in a corner of the van, out of the way.  Now she stood and handed me her handcuffs.

"I've picked up a few tricks," she smirked.  I nodded and helped her out the back of the van.

Steel flew over the van to join us.  Lois turned to me and asked, "Do you know what's going on?"

I shook my head.  "Luthor has moved against the superheroes.  Batman and I are rescuing those we can.  That's all I know."

"What about..."

"We don't have time for questions, Lois.  We have to get you to safety before more soldiers show up."

"We've got that covered," Steel piped up.  "We made our plans when Batman sent the original warning.  Everyone else is safe and under cover.  Lois was the last."

I nodded.  "Then I will leave her to you."

I leapt into the air.

"Wait!" Lois called out.  "I need to...."

I did not hear the rest.  It's hard to hear much at supersonic speed.

Keystone City next, I thought, and headed west.

Author's Notes:  Sorry for the longer than anticipated delay between postings.  I think I'm back on track now, so there shouldn't be any more long delays, at least for the next few chapters.  The Human Defense Corps (HDC) was introduced in the Human Defense Corps miniseries in 2003.  The JLA saved Atlantis in "The Obsidian Age", recently reprinted in trade paperback.  Natasha replaced her uncle as Steel not long ago; I don't know if Diana has met her in that role as yet.  I'm assuming she has not.


	6. Consulting the Oracle

Chapter 6: Consulting the Oracle

All characters are the property of DC Comics.  No money is being made on this story and no infringement of copyright is intended.

I watched out of the cockpit of the Invisible Plane as Diana disappeared from sight.  Some people call me fearless.  They are fools.  Fear is my constant companion, but I do not let it control me.  I use it.  Fear fuels every blow I throw; it gives me the strength to get up again when I am knocked down.  I would use this fear too.

I turned back to the display.  At this rate, I would be in New York in minutes.  Suddenly,

"...hear me?  Oracle to Batman, can you hear me?"

"Oracle, this is Batman.  Report."

"Batman, thank god!  Are you OK? When you went off the air, I was...."

"Oracle, report."

"Yes sir."  Not her usual teasing tone; she sounded like she meant it.  She paused for a moment as if to gather her thoughts.  That wasn't like her either.  I frowned.

"Communications went blooey.  I couldn't reach J'onn.  I couldn't activate our back-up warning system either, but it came on a few minutes ago.  Your doing?"

"Affirmative."

"Then the Watchtower went.  You saw?"

"Affirmative."

"Well, then I got worried.  When I couldn't reach anybody any other way, I started dialing."

"You WHAT?"  I had lost control, I realized.  I was bellowing.  I recalled my mantra and took a calming breath.  "You know how easily phone calls can be traced."

"Don't try to teach your grandmother to suck eggs, Bats," Barbara replied flippantly, "I've got it covered.  I set it up long ago for my own operations.  Anyone trying to trace these calls will find each one came from a different pay phone.  In Star City."  That was more her usual style.  Good.

"I went down the list.  I struck out the first time: the JSA had left on an urgent mission minutes earlier.  You... know what that probably means."

She couldn't see me, but I nodded anyway.  More bad news.

"And Jakeem Williams has gone missing."

Jakeem Williams controlled the mystic Thunderbolt.  He was twelve years old and lived with his aunt.  I could think of sixteen different ways to take him out before he could use the Thunderbolt to protect himself.  Presumably, Luthor had come up with one of his own.

"Did you activate his protocol?"

Barbara sighed.  "Yeah, I didn't like it but I did it."  She paused before continuing, "However, I was able to pass the warning on to Zatanna, Atom, Steel, …."

She rattled off an impressive list, ending with, "and all of our group, of course.  Except Huntress."  Now her voice was tense.  "I couldn't get thru to her."

Knowing the difficult relations between the two women, I wished Dick would learn to keep it in his pants.  "I'm sure you did your best."

"Of course I did my best!  What, you think I'd hang her out to dry because little Dickie lives up to his name?  Is that what you think of me?"

The outburst caught us both by surprise.  Calmly, I replied, "Continue your report, Oracle."

"Uh, yeah."  She took a deep breath.  "Sorry.  I didn't mean that, it's just I ... I've been going crazy, not knowing what's going on, completely out of the loop.  I've had to fall back on CNN for a clue.  God, how can ordinary people put up with the drivel that passes for news on TV?  They claim the Capitol has been attacked.  First it was terrorists, then they said super villains and someone has mentioned rogue superheroes.  And there's a rumor Luthor's been killed."

"I think you can interpret that as well as I."

She chuckled weakly.  "Yeah, I guess so.  Oh," her voice regained some of its usual sparkle, "Operation Stalking Horse is a success."

"Oh?"  She had given that name to a scam we set up.  I knew Luthor wanted to take me out of the game and the best way to do that was to uncover my real identity.  So I planted evidence to point him towards others.  Not just one other.  Luthor might kill one person.  Instead I planted evidence pointing to a dozen prominent Gothamites.  The sort of people who could not disappear without raising a fuss.

"Once the warning system came on, there was no point to phoning up more superheroes, so I switched over to the list of stalking horses.  As it were."

That was reckless, foolhardy, unnecessary....  I clamped my jaw shut on my words and swallowed the sudden spurt of panic her blithe statement triggered.  A suspicion that had been growing in my mind suddenly crystallized.  Since she was shot, Barbara had developed her own ways to control and use her fear.  She regularly handled earth-shaking emergencies with complete composure.  This was not like her.

I remembered my own fears and how easily I lost control.  I remembered Diana.  She was the most fearless person I know.  She must feel fear, she is human.  Or close enough, anyway.  But, as far as I could tell, she simply ignored it.  Yet I had seen her show more fear today than in any half dozen JLA missions.

Barbara continued, "The first three calls were all answered by humorless FBI types very interested in my connection with the person in question.  I stopped after that.  I figured there was no point in taking unnecessary risks."

I bit down hard on my tongue.  When I could speak again, I said quietly, "Oracle, if you combined Scarecrow's fear stimulation with the Mad Hatter's mind control technology...."

She gasped.  "You think they're broadcasting fear into our minds?  It would have to be omni directional, though.  They're broadcasting fear into **everyone's** mind?"

"We know both of them are working for Luthor.  He wants people afraid."

"He wants them afraid of **us**," Barbara objected.

"Once he has them afraid, he will direct the fear towards us.  That is the point of the attack on the Capitol."

"That makes sense.  Maybe I'm not going crazy after all."  The relief was clear in her voice.  "I'll have to dig out our files on both Crane and Tetch and ...."

"Later.  First, how did you reestablish communications?"

"Oh, I'm stealing bandwidth off the military communications satellites.  The only way they can shut us down now, is to shut down their own communications."  She chuckled.  "Of course, if they figure out what I'm doing, they can listen in; but we already upgraded our encryption in preparation for this brouhaha, so I really doubt they could make anything of it."

"You are not using any JLA comm codes or procedures, are you?"

"No, boss," she responded dryly, "I'm following orders.  Which means I can only connect with family members until the comlinks are reprogrammed."

"Good.  I'm certain now that all the JLA systems have been compromised."

"Gee, what makes you think that?  The radioactive crater where your clubhouse should be?"

I started putting together everything she had accomplished.  Suddenly suspicious, I asked, "Are you at the secure location?"

"I'm leaving shortly," she replied breezily.

"Now," I commanded.

"There are still a few things I need to do first."

"Oracle," I rasped, jaw clenched.  Then, in a carefully calm voice, I started again.  "Oracle, if we lose you, we lose our communications, our ability to coordinate and the bulk of our intelligence gathering capability."

I paused to let that sink in.  "We underestimated... **I** underestimated Luthor.  I underestimated the lengths he would go to.  Right now, he's beating us.  Beating us?  He's walking all over us."

Oracle said nothing, but I knew she was nodding in reluctant agreement. 

I went on, "We can still make the plan work.  We have a secure base in Atlantis and enough of the key players are still free.  But to make it work, we need the support only you can provide.  If we lose you, we lose our chance.  If we lose you, Luthor wins."

"J'onn...."

"We can't count on J'onn.  When he went off-line, he was under attack.  The situation..." I forced down the lump in my throat.  "...was desperate.  We can't count on his survival."

I heard her muffled sob.

"Go Oracle.  Go now."

She sighed in defeat.  "I'll be out of communications again for about an hour.  Anything you need before then?"

I could think of dozens of questions I urgently needed answers to, but not urgently enough to justify delaying her even a second.

"No."

"Okay, I'm gone.  Br...Batman, be careful.  We can't afford to lose you either."

She couldn't see me, but I nodded anyway.


	7. The Old Folks Home

Chapter 7:  The Old Folks Home

All characters are the property of DC Comics.  No money is being made on this story and no infringement of copyright is intended.

I caught a glimpse of the headquarters of the Justice Society of America as the invisible plane screamed between the skyscrapers of New York.  I thought, as I always did, of Wally West's nickname for it.  He called it 'the Old Folk's Home'.  He said it teasingly but with an undertone of fondness and even respect.  It was not entirely accurate, of course.  The latest incarnation of the JSA had always included younger heroes as well as older; but the oldest heroes still in the business made their home in this aging, nondescript brownstone building.

Usually I had to suppress a smile when I thought of it.  Not today.  Today the Old Folks Home was under siege.  The battle lines were drawn with police barriers; with HDC troops, tanks and armored hovercars deployed on the streets; and with sharpshooters on the roofs.

Many of the soldiers turned to look as they heard, but didn't see, the invisible plane thunder overhead.  One or two fired at me, with the plasma pulse rifles I had encountered in Washington.  That was all.  These troops evidently had not been ordered to kill all metas on sight.  I did not fool myself that we would be allowed to leave as easily.  This pick up would be challenging.  I suppressed a sigh.  Probably they all would.

I set down on the roof of the brownstone.  I turned to the others.  "Stay here."

Gypsy's eyes were glazed with pain.  She didn't answer.  The other two nodded meekly.  I jumped out.  I had been invisible to the brownstone's security systems up to that point, but now they challenged me.

"Intruder," boomed the synthetic voice as all sorts of weapons and restraining devices popped out of the roof.  "You have twenty seconds to identify yourself or be seized for trespassing."

"Lemon Sherbet," I replied, thinking irritably that they should be more original in their passwords.

"Password correct.  You are free to enter."

I climbed back up to the cockpit.  "Okay," I told the others, "Gypsy better stay.  You two come along."

The senator and the congressman looked reluctant and apprehensive, but they climbed down without my needing to glare at them.

The thundering racket of the landing had not gone unnoticed.  Power Girl and the Star-spangled Kid came flying out of the rooftop access.  They both looked tense and ready to attack.  They stopped at the sight of me and a little of the tension left them.

"Oh!" said Courtney Whitmore, the Star-spangled Kid.

"What are you doing here?" Power Girl asked, but without her usual truculence.  "And who are they?"

"And where's your plane?"  Courtney added.

"It's invisible."

Wildcat followed them out of the dive tube.  "Bats!  Good to see you.  We could use some help right about now."

"Indoors." I headed for the dive tube.

"Sure thing.  Hey!  How did you know our password?  And who are these guys?"

I brushed past him, silent.  The dive tube was one of Mr. Terrific's inventions.  Magnetic force powers you up or down the tube and 'catches' you at the other end.  It was fast, if a little disorienting.  We came out, one after the other, on the fifth floor, in a foyer between the meeting room and the hospital.  The walls were decorated with the works of some of the lesser-known Impressionist painters.  I did not think they were prints.

Suddenly, the knot of fear in my chest loosened.  It made sense.  With Mr. Terrific in charge of security, the place was probably shielded against every imaginable form of attack, and several only Mr. Terrific had ever thought of.  Luthor's fear broadcasts would have no effect in here.

My two guests came out of the dive tube looking more than a little disoriented, but they did not vomit on the expensive Persian rug, so I did not worry about it.

"This is Senator Harold Connelly and Representative Piotr Zabrowski."

"Oh?"  Wildcat looked thunderous.  "Maybe you can tell us why the Army attacked us.  Was the Capitol under attack or was that a load of bull?"

Both were taken aback.  Power Girl intervened.  "Didn't you see all the smoke, Wildcat?  It was attacked, all right."

The two congressmen nodded.  Zabrowski added, "We were attacked by superheroes," he glanced at me, "well, they appeared to be superheroes.  Maybe the Army thought you were part of that.  It was probably all a mistake."

Power Girl snorted.  "They had a machine gun shooting wooden bullets.  That only works against Sentinel.  It was no god damn mistake, they were expecting us."

The JSAers' honest outrage clearly impressed them.  I had hoped for as much when I brought them in with me, but now it was time to take control.

"What's the situation?" I barked.

Wildcat bristled but Power Girl – short tempered, chip on her shoulder Power Girl – did not.  She replied with a tolerable calm, under the circumstances.  "We got creamed.  We got a call that the Capitol was under attack and scrambled and they hit us just short of the building.  It was a fucking setup."

She had always had a mouth on her.  That, at least, had not changed.  I grunted, "You should have paid more attention to my warning."

Power Girl and the Kid just stared at me.  Wildcat reddened.

"You didn't tell them," I growled, hardly believing it.

Power Girl turned on Wildcat.  "Ted, you idiot, what did you do now?"

Ted Grant raised his hands, whether to ward her off or to show his innocence wasn't clear.  "Hey, I told Mr. T."  Then he looked uncomfortable and added, "Well, it was several days later, but we were in the middle of dealing with the Thinker so I was a little distracted and we wouldn't have had time to do anything about it anyways."  He scowled and muttered, "And then Terrific had to go and get himself shot."

"What!?!"

They all turned and stared at me.  Power Girl said, "He was shot two days ago, as he was leaving the townhouse.  We wanted to keep it secret until we caught the shooter."

Wildcat scowled and added, "The flipping bullet went right through and buried itself in the granite facing of the townhouse.  The bastard used a cannon, for crying out loud!"

"Not a cannon," I told him distractedly, "a 15.2mm Steyr IW2000 with an optical sniperscope, firing an APFSDS round."

"How do you know that?" squeaked Courtney.

I scowled and she shrank back.  But my scowl was not for her.  Why had I not seen this coming?  Luthor was right to fear Mr. Terrific; he was a triple threat to him.  He was invisible to all forms of electronic surveillance, which meant he could get into almost any place; his ability to penetrate computer systems was unmatched, even by Oracle; and he was the leader of the only presently full-strength superhero team.

I knew Luthor had recruited Deadshot, I knew he might use him as an assassin, I just did not guess who the target was.  If I had, Mr. Terrific would have protected himself.  Or maybe not.  He tended to rely too much on his electronic invisibility.  It had been no protection against an old-fashioned optical sniperscope.

"Because I know who the shooter is," I finally replied.

The knot in my chest was back in full force and this time it had nothing to do with the Scarecrow or the Mad Hatter.  Oracle and I had planned things so that no one was indispensable, but without J'onn or Mr. Terrific, we would have little margin for error left.

Something else occurred to me.  "If you two didn't know, and Wildcat obviously didn't think to do it, who signaled me?"

"I did."

It was a sign of my distraction that I hadn't heard her come up.  I turned to see a short older woman with bushy gray hair.  Abigail Matilda Hunkle, once the original Red Tornado and better known as Ma Hunkle.  These days, she was the curator of the JSA museum downstairs and mother hen to all the JSAers.

She continued, calmly, "Wildcat told me.  Well, everybody tells me pretty much everything around here.  So when the soldiers showed up outside, I went and hunted up that 'panic button' you sent us."

I nodded.  Clearly a woman of sense.  "What's Mr. Terrific's status?" I asked without much hope.  Their attitudes said he was still alive, but no one bounced back quickly from a hit like that.

"Bad," said Ma Hunkle.

"He's still alive," Power Girl said at the same time, "but only just.  Dr. Mid-Nite is watching him day and night."

Pieter Anton Cross (better known as Dr. Mid-Nite) was, in addition to being a superhero, one of the best surgeons alive.  My father would have liked him, I thought suddenly; then put the irrelevancy aside.

"And the rest of the team?"

They glanced at each other and the knot in my chest tightened another notch.

Power Girl shook her head.  "The rest are either wounded or... or missing.  We're it."

My brain froze.  After what Oracle had told me, I had come expecting bad news but this....

There was a strange sound behind me, like sand poured onto concrete, and a new voice said, "Not quite.  There's still me."

"Sand!" Power Girl swept him up in a hearty hug.

Courtney beamed.  "When you didn't show up, I was afraid you'd disappeared too."

"I would have gone back for you," Power Girl interrupted, "but you...."

"I ordered you not to," Sand completed.  "And you see I was right.  I'm not easily hurt, as you know."

All very affecting, but I was in a hurry.  "Disappeared?  What happened out there?"

Sand, exhaustion writ plain in his face, looked at me in puzzlement, clearly wondering what I was doing there.  I don't think he even noticed the congressmen, who were trying to fade into the woodwork.  Power Girl turned back to me and picked up the threads of her interrupted briefing.

"Sentinel and Hawkman were hit immediately.  The platform Sentinel had created to carry Hourman and Wildcat disintegrated when he was hit.  I caught Wildcat and Hawkgirl caught Hourman but, as she slowed to set him on the ground, a new bunch opened fire from another direction.  Both Hawkgirl and Hourman were hit.  Basically, it all went to hell.  It was like our teamwork was off, we couldn't seem to do anything right."

"You were afraid," I told her.

"Now just a minute," roared Wildcat.  "This little lady is one of the..."

"You were all afraid," I interrupted, "because Luthor's been broadcasting an electromagnetic signal that triggers the fear center of the brain.  Everyone's brain.  We're protected in here, but – as soon as you go outside – it will affect you again."

"Really?" asked Courtney hopeful.  The thought that it wasn't her, that someone had **made** her feel afraid, was reassuring.

I'm only guessing, I didn't say, I don't really know.  I didn't say it because it didn't matter at the moment.  Both Courtney and Power Girl stood a little straighter.  They would be more confident in themselves, more effective, and that was all that mattered.

"Well," Karen continued,  "Jakeem and the Flash – our Flash -- never showed up.  Captain Marvel and I smashed up some tanks and tried to chase the troops off.  But more kept coming and we couldn't get the upper hand."

I clenched my teeth in disgust.  That would look good on the ten o'clock news.  Luthor had gotten what he needed out of the confrontation.

Karen pushed her hands through her hair.  "Then Hawkgirl and Hourman disappeared.  No one's quite sure when that happened, let alone how.  We were kind of busy, after all.  But then Marvel disappeared too!  I was looking at him one moment, I turned away for a few seconds, and he was gone.  No more than a few god damn seconds, I swear!"

Wildcat grumbled, "If Fate hadn't gone off on some mystic, mumbo-jumbo business, he'd have settled their hash."

I doubted that.  Luthor had planned too carefully.

"After that," Karen finished up, "Sand ordered us to gather up the wounded and take them back here.  He would cover us."

She shrugged.  "What happened after that, I don't know."

Everybody turned to Sand.

Sand's tone made light of things.  "I set off a small, localized tremblor.  Just enough to shake everyone up and spoil their aim."

Setting off an earthquake in downtown Washington. Fantastic.

Sand continued, "I was going to change to sand and sink into the ground; except they hit me with some sort of freeze ray.  I couldn't shift form or move or anything.  They would have had me, except a tank blasted me with one of their high-powered plasma pulses.  It shattered me into a million pieces.  I guess they thought that would kill me, but instead the heat of blast warmed me enough that I could shift to sand and get out of there.  Then it was just a matter of traveling through the bedrock to here."

Power Girl's face took on a set look.  "Dr. Mid-Nite should check you out.  That clearly took a lot out of you."

Sand, who had been half-slumped against the wall, straightened.  "I'm okay."

Power Girl looked ready to object, but suddenly the intercom came alive.  It was Dr. Mid-Nite's voice and there was an urgency to it.

"I think you all should get over here right now."  
  


Sand looked at Power Girl and laughed weakly.  "I guess we're all going to see the Doctor."

We crossed the foyer to the Hospital, which was spacious, uncluttered, sterile and high-tech.  Dr. Mid-Nite had his back to us, watching a screen filled with Superman's face.  He seemed to be making an address.  My heart sank.  I had expected this, but that didn't make it good news.

Three beds were occupied.  Two were surrounded by IV hook ups and monitoring equipment.  Hawkman was sitting up in the third bed, watching the screen.  His left wing was heavily bandaged, his right leg was in a cast and an IV fed into his right arm.  He looked pale.

Dr Mid-Nite turned to face us.  "He came on just a... Sand!  Good to see you, man!  And Batman.  Good.  I think we're going to need your help."  He looked a little puzzled at the other two visitors, but then turned back to the screen.

Once he shut up, I could hear Clark's voice.

"...for interrupting your programming.  Thank you for listening.  Good night."  His image vanished, to be replaced by a pair of TV anchormen.  They looked at each other, stunned.  Mid-Nite t'ched and hit a button.  They disappeared.

"I started taping as soon as I realized what was happening.  Ah, here we go."

Superman's face reappeared in the screen.  He looked tired but resolute.  "... ellow Americans.  I apologize for interrupting the regular programming.  Please don't bother to change the channel, as we are broadcasting on all channels."

He allowed himself a small smile.  "That is quite a chore, these days.  But the matter I must speak to you about is both critical and urgent."

He paused.  "I must tell you that President Luthor was a criminal and traitor to this great nation of ours. He sought to first undermine and then destroy the heroes that protect this country from attack by aliens and other threats from without, and by supervillains and ordinary criminals from within.

"Today he convened a secret session of Congress where he tried to force the passage of legislation which would have crippled our effectiveness.  But this was only the opening wedge.  We are convinced he intended to ultimately round up all metahumans into concentration camps and exterminate us."

He stared out of the screen with utmost seriousness.  "He claimed that metahumans are a threat to the rest of humanity.  That is far from the case!  True, some metahumans – the so-called super villains – **are** a threat, but they are a small minority.  Most metahumans use their powers to protect you from those, human and metahuman alike, who would threaten you, your loved ones or our way of life.  It is clear that Luthor's claims were a mere cloak for some deeper, darker plot.

"In any case, we could not allow him to threaten all metahumans like this.  His actions have forced us to recognize a fact that we have long striven to avoid."

Superman paused again and something chilling crept into his face.  "We metahumans are not human.  We have pretended to be, to you as well as to ourselves, but our destiny is greater and grander than that.  It is time to cease the pretense.  In particular, it is time to reject the idea that human law applies to us.  We are beyond that and from this day forward we all must accept that only metahumans have the right to judge other metahumans."

He smiled.  It was clearly intended to be a reassuring smile but there was something disturbing in it.  "Do not think this means metahumans will be allowed to trample on the rights and freedoms of mere humans.  On the contrary!  Without human courts and legal technicalities to get in the way, we will be able to deal with supervillains more quickly and efficiently.  As we will deal with those who threaten or harm metahumans."

His countenance turned stern and unyielding.  "Please remember this.  We will not allow anyone, human or metahuman, to endanger the lives or well being of our fellow metahumans.  Justice will be meted out swiftly and without compunction.  As it already has, in the case of Lex Luthor."

He now seemed to be asking for understanding.  "Luthor clearly intended harm to all metahumankind.  He had to be punished.  Please believe that we intended no other deaths.  But Luthor cowardly attempted to escape his just punishment by ordering the army to attack us.  It was with great sadness that we fought against the soldiers of this great country of all of ours.  In the resulting confusion, we know that other – unintended – deaths occurred.  We regret this."

Superman attempted to smile again, with no more success.  "The man who now leads this country, Pete Ross, is a good man.  We are sure he understands and accepts the rightful role of metahumans in our society.  We mean him nothing but good.  Nor do we intend to interfere with your choice of president in the future.  You may elect anyone you choose.  Unless, of course, that person is not acceptable to us."

He paused again before continuing.  "I know this is a lot for you to take in, but it really means very little change for nearly all of you.  Most of you have had little contact with metahumans and that will not change.  If you do encounter one of us, just remember to treat them with the respect their position deserves.  Otherwise everything will be the same as always.

"Once again, I apologize for interrupting your programming.  Thank you for listening.  Good night."

Silence filled the room.

Dr. Mid-Nite broke it.  "Beautiful job of programming, really."

"Whoever did that smile is a genius," Power Girl added.

"That wasn't Superman!" Courtney insisted with a belligerence that showed her lack of certainty.

Wildcat smiled sympathetically.  "You know that, kid, and I know that, but most of them joes out there?"  He shook his head.  "They ain't gonna know that."

"After that show," I interjected, "the troops outside won't wait much longer to attack.  It's time to evacuate."

"I can't move Sentinel or Terrific," Dr. Mid-Nite objected.

"I can supply you with any medical equipment you need, once we get them in the plane..." – I knew the invisible plane could change it's form to anything Diana asked of it and she had told it to obey me.  I was confident I could get it to provide whatever he required – "... but bring all the supplies you need."  I was not sure it could produce human blood or drugs on command.

Mid-Nite nodded.  "That will work."

He looked over at Sand.  "Sand, come over here."  He proceeded to examine him as Sand kept insisting he was fine.  I wanted to tell him to wait until we were in the plane, but my father had taught me long ago that a good doctor lets nothing take priority over the care of his patients.

I looked at Sentinel, pale and unmoving.  Except for the "beep... beep... beep" of the heart monitor, he could have been dead.  He had been my hero growing up.  In a way, I guess, he still was.

None of us would survive much longer if we didn't get moving.  The soldiers would be ready for us this time.  Several nearby buildings were taller than this brownstone.  Snipers on them could shoot anyone who showed themselves on the roof.  Even if we dealt with them, the tanks and soldiers on the ground would open fire at the first sound of the jet.  They could put up a wall of fire that nothing could fly through.  Being invisible wouldn't help much in that case.  We needed a plan.

"All right," I said loudly enough to garner everyone's attention, "this is what we'll do."

Author's Notes: I am somewhat out of date on the JSA, so if I made any mistakes, my apologies.


	8. Rescues'R'Us

Chapter 8:  Rescues'R'Us

All characters are the property of DC Comics.  No money is being made on this story and no infringement of copyright is intended.

I decided to make a small detour.  Pisboe, Virginia is not on the straight-line route from Metropolis to Keystone City, but it is not far off it either.  I knew Batman would scold if he found out, but J'onn was my friend and I needed to know what had happened to him.

The flight took several minutes, giving me too much time to brood and worry.  The cold lump in my stomach grew by the minute.  If we didn't stop Luthor... but we would, I assured myself, and without any more friends dying.  I did not know how I could keep that promise, but I made it anyway and felt better afterward.

Soon I was approaching the housing development where J'onn had been staying.  I did not have to search for the house; the towering pillar of black smoke marked it all too clearly.  The sun was setting, but I could just make out the few charred timbers that were all that remained.  The fire must have been incredibly hot to have so quickly and completely consumed the house. My heart sank but my mind had already accepted the reality of J'onn's death.

Around the house I saw figures and vehicles.  I assumed they were fire fighters until they started firing on me.  There was no point in staying and, as Batman had said, there were others I **could** save.  I dove away and picked up speed.

I out-raced the sun to Keystone City and arrived about an hour before sunset.  I expected to find the Garrick's house surrounded and besieged.  Instead the scene was straight out of Norman Rockwell.  The house was in a residential section of town, a typical wood-frame house complete with lawn and a picket fence.  There were a few pedestrians on the sidewalk and more people in their yards, talking among themselves.  No soldiers armed with blasters, no armored vehicles, not even a policeman.  I double-checked the locator, half-expecting to find the blip gone or the location shifted.  But no, the blip was still there and clearly coming from the house.  I landed on the front lawn, unsure of what to expect.

The front door flew open and Joan Garrick ran to meet me.  "Thank God someone's come. I was at my wit's end.  I don't know what to do with them all."

I raised my eyebrows at this greeting.  She tugged on my arm.  "Let's get inside.  We don't want to draw attention.  More than we already have," she amended.

It seemed that all the neighbors were staring at us.  I would have thought that, after all these years, they would have gotten used to the Garrick's "flashier" visitors.

"It's that horrible broadcast.  Half of them believe it and the other half aren't sure.  As if," she sniffed, "Superman would ever talk like that."

Now I was completely confused.  She led me into the house.

"Jay is in the master bedroom."  Suddenly Joan looked old and scared.  "I'm worried about him.  I put Superboy in with him.  Kendra and Rick are in Bart's Room. I put Bart on the couch in the living room."

She wrung her hands.  "It was the best I could come up with, but they all need medical attention and Jay most of all."

Why were all these people here?  And who were Kendra and Rick?  The only Kendra I had ever heard of was Hawkgirl.  I was trying to puzzle out who Rick could be when Joan opened the door to the master bedroom.

I gasped.  Superboy lay on the bed in his costume.  He looked battered, with bruises forming on his face and his eyes swollen half-shut.  He was conscious, for his eyes flicked briefly to me, but he looked feverish.

Jay looked broken.  His arms and legs dangled at unnatural angles and his breathing was labored.  I guessed there were broken ribs as well.  He was unconscious and sweat covered his face.  Suddenly, my fear returned stronger than ever.

"He usually heals so fast," Joan fretted, "but I think he's getting worse instead."

"Where did they all come from?" I asked.

"Bart brought them.  He tore out of the house about an hour ago, without any explanation.  Jay followed him to keep him out of trouble.  Bart returned a few minutes later, carrying Jay.  He told me there was a big battle going on in Washington.  He kept apologizing for not getting to Jay in time."

The tears started rolling down her face.  "I told him to stop talking nonsense.  I knew he did his best.  Then he left again, said there was someone who needed him.  He came back with Hawkgirl.  She had bad burns on her wings and face.  He was limping, I think he broke his ankle but he'd wrapped it up in something and immediately headed back out.  Hobbling at superspeed.  It would have been funny if it wasn't...."

She hiccuped and wiped the tears from her eyes.  "He came back with Hourman that time.  I'm not sure what's wrong with Rick; He looks OK but he hasn't regained consciousness.  I could tell from Bart's face how much he was hurting, but he just turned around and took off again.  Then he came back with Superboy.  I think he broke his arm when he caught him.  He would have gone back yet again, he was almost hysterical, saying he hadn't been able to get to her and Batman was going to be so angry.  I told him I was going to be even angrier if he didn't lie down.  I finally settled him on the couch."

She gave a watery chuckle.  "That's when he thought of the comlink Batman gave him.  We couldn't raise anybody but he hit the 'panic button' and we've been waiting ever since.  I've been trying to tend to the wounded and he started flipping through the news channels, hoping to find out what's happening.  Of course, what he found was that horrible fake Superman."

Fake Superman?

"I had to settle him down again.  Bart was all ready to race out again and do I don't know what.  I don't think he knew either.  But now you're here and...."

I never found out what she expected me to do, for a shout came from the other end of the house.

"Aunt Joan!  There's another one!"  
  
"Oh dear," Joan looked stricken and hurried down the hall.  I followed into the living room.  Bart Allen, Impulse, lay on an overstuffed brown couch.  The TV was on the far wall.  He held the remote in his left hand.  His right arm and left ankle were bandaged but they were at odd angles that told me they were broken.

On the TV screen was Pete Ross, Kal's friend and the Vice-President of the United States.  He looked anxious, nervous, uncomfortable to be in the spotlight, but determined.  He spoke in a firm voice.

"...many of you saw the broadcast made by Superman just minutes ago.  I felt it was my duty to immediately set the record straight.  At 4:58pm Eastern Time, a special joint session of Congress was attacked by members of the Justice League of America, the Justice Society of America, the Titans, the group calling itself Young Justice and several unaffiliated superheroes.  The President was critically wounded, but he was **not** killed in the attack.  Several Secret Service men guarding the president **were** killed and several members of Congress are missing and possibly dead.  Nearby units of the Human Defense Corps intervened to drive off the attackers.  The HDC suffered casualties as well.

"There have been further attacks reported: in New York and Metropolis and at the Belle Reeve secure facility, where the attack resulted in the escape of a number of supervillains.

"These attacks were unjustified and unprovoked.  They constitute acts of war against the United States on the part of the superheroes involved.  Since most are citizens of this country, that makes it treason."

Ross paused and looked straight out at his audience.  "All citizens of this country, metahuman as well as human, are subject to its laws.  We will not allow any group to flout those laws or take the law into their own hands.

"As President Luthor is presently unable to perform his duties, I have been sworn in as acting President.  My first act is to declare that a state of emergency exists throughout the United States.  All metahumans will be apprehended and detained on sight, until it can be determined whether or not they are part of this plot.

The strain showed clearly on Ross' face.  "This is a grave step to take, solely on my own authority.  However the magnitude of the threat and the speed with which they have acted requires an immediate and decisive response.  I will be convening Congress at the earliest opportunity to confirm and regularize my actions."

His face softened.  "We must keep in mind that the superheroes may not be acting of their own volition.  They may be mind-controlled or otherwise manipulated by some malign agency.  For myself, I cannot imagine Superman acting in such a fashion of his own free will.  I have given orders that lethal force should not be used unless absolutely necessary.  Nevertheless, whether acting on their own or under the control of another, the threat they represent to this nation remains extremely grave.

"For the metahumans who are not involved in this attack, I urge you to surrender to the nearest authority.  You will be detained – that is necessary in the present emergency – but only until your innocence is established.  A few days, a few weeks at most.

"For the rest of you, for your own safety, I urge you to remain indoors unless you are needed for essential services.  Do not hinder those – whether military, police or fire fighters – who are dealing with this threat.  Obey any instructions they give you and provide any assistance you can.  A hot line is being set up for reporting metahuman sightings.  The number will be announced shortly.  If you spot a metahuman, please report it immediately.  That is the most important help you can provide."

He essayed a smile.  It was not very convincing.  "We **will** get through this and we will do it together.  But the next few days are critical.  Please remain calm and obey the proper authorities.

"God bless."

Bart rapidly flicked through the channels, but there was no more of immediate interest.

"That's torn it," Joan said crossly.  "Arresting all metahumans!  We've got to get everyone out of here right away.  I'm surprised they haven't come for us already."

I was too.  "They probably expected Jay to be with the JSA," I thought out loud.  And, like me, they had underestimated Bart.

Bart and Joan looked at me.  Although I had not said those last words aloud, I knew they both had heard them.

"Batman will be here with the invisible plane shortly," I told them, hoping it was true.  "We can load everyone aboard and take them to Atlantis, where we will have the medical facilities to take care of them."

Joan looked doubtful.  I knew she was thinking of Jay's condition.  Would he make it to Atlantis?

Bart looked both relieved and fearful at the news that Batman would shortly be there.

"Hello? Anybody home?"

The voice was not Batman's, unless he had lost about twenty years and had a sex change operation.  I moved to the door and opened it.  Power Girl and the Star-spangled Girl were landing on the front lawn.

Joan pushed past me and ran out to hug them both.  The younger one looked gratified, but Power Girl looked serious, almost stern.

She turned her attention to me.  "Batman sent us to join you.  Several of our teammates were critically wounded; he's taking them directly to Atlantis.  He said for you to take the Tempe, Arizona pick up; he'll handle Fawcett City."

My heart sank.  Without the invisible plane, I did not think I could get Jay safely to Atlantis in time.

Courtney looked up at me.  "We covered his escape," she said proudly. " 'Cause enough noise and confusion that nobody notices the invisible plane taking off'," she quoted grinning.  "It was fun.  Sand had the hard job.  He had to use his power to move through stone and concrete to sneak up on the snipers and take them out quietly."

"He'll be joining us shortly," Power Girl added with an edge to her voice.  "Diana, I spotted HDC tanks and hover vans headed this way.  We need to hurry."

My heart froze at this news.  I nodded.

Suddenly there was a noise like sand being poured out on the ground.  A figure rose up out of the front lawn.

"Sand!" Power Girl cried out.  Her exaggerated relief demonstrated how much she had feared he would not make it.

Something clicked in my mind and I realized, "We are being **made** to be afraid."

"What's just what Batman said," Courtney replied.

I nodded but, with that discovery, I made up my mind.  "Joan, where do you normally take Jay when he's hurt?"

"There's a Star Labs in town."

"Good.  I don't think we can risk taking him all the way to Atlantis.  He'll be captured, of course, but in his condition, they ought to just leave him there under guard."

"I'm going with him."

"You can't.  They might use you as a hostage."

"How? They'll already have Jay.  Who else are they going to use me as a hostage against?  In any case, my mind is made up."

"We don't have time for arguments," Power Girl pointed out, the edge back in her voice.

I nodded.  "All right, Joan.  Power Girl, can you and the Star-spangled Kid take Hawkgirl, Hourman, Superboy and Impulse to Atlantis?"

"Are they here?" asked Courtney.  "Is Captain Marvel here too?"

I shook my head, wondering why she thought he might be.

Power Girl turned to the Star-spangled Kid.  "If you can carry Impulse, Stars, I'll handle the rest."

"Great!" she responded.  "Rescues'R'Us!  Low prices, satisfaction guaranteed!"

"Can you carry three?" I asked doubtfully.

"Sure.  One in each arm and whichever is in the best shape will have to hang around my neck."

I nodded.  I turned to Sand.  He looked like he could barely stand, but I needed him.  "Sand, you will have to cover our escape if the HDC troops arrive before we are gone.  Once you are through here, I need you to go to a trailer park ten miles northeast of Tempe, Arizona.  I will join you as soon as I am able."

He nodded wearily.  "Who lives there?"

"Major Disaster."

"Oh joy."  He tried to grin but it looked the rictus of a corpse.

I looked at the others.  "May Gaea smile upon us all.  Let's move."

Author's Note:  My description of the Garrick's house comes primarily from the Flash: Rogues trade paperback, although the couch comes from Impulse #89.


	9. Down Time

Chapter 9: Down Time

All characters are the property of DC Comics.  No money is being made on this story and no infringement of copyright is intended.

We were heading for Atlantis, the last pick up made.  The opposition had grown stronger at each stop, the HDC having more time to prepare.  Gateway City had been a trap.  Only the arrival of Batman with Mary Marvel, Changeling and Flamebird had swung the battle in our favor.  I shuddered at how close it had been; how close we had come to losing Cassie and Helena Sandsmark.

But now, at least, I could ride in the invisible jet instead of flying, something I was truly grateful for.  There was not much else to be happy about.

I looked at the display, now bereft of blinking red lights, and felt dejected.  "We didn't get all of them.  I doubt if we got half."

In the seat next to me, Batman chuckled.  It was such an incongruous sound that I turned and stared at him.

He was smirking.  "Did you think we were the only pick up team, Princess?"

As always, his use of a title I had forfeited irritated me.  At the moment, however, that seemed the least of his sins.  "You mean there were others?  Why didn't you tell me?  Why did you leave me thinking the worst?"

"Focus, Diana.  We need to keep focused on the critical point.  Right now, that is getting some rest.  We'll need it later."

I stared in astonishment as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes.  Shortly, a soft snoring sound emanated from his mouth.

We need him, I reminded myself, you can't try knocking some sense into his thick skull just yet.  You will have to wait until this is over.  But then....

Even at Mach 12, the trip from Gateway City to Atlantis took time.  I had to listen to his snores for forty minutes, unable to sleep myself.  I closed my eyes but it just made his snoring seem louder.  I had wondered if he snored.  Now I knew.

I looked out at the scenery.  We were crossing the Rockies.  Row upon snow-covered row of mountains loomed ahead and then slipped beneath of us in seconds.  I watched as the shadows they cast lengthened.  Going west, we had outraced the sun, but now we were going east, racing into night.  As we crossed the last row of mountains, the plains were already in shadow.  I turned and watched the sun set behind us as if on fast forward.  It was a beautiful country. We could not let Luthor ruin it.

Shortly after crossing the coast into the Atlantic Ocean, the fear that had been my constant companion these last few hours started dissipating.  Within a few minutes it was, not gone, but reduced to a more natural level.

It was not long after that we reached the location of Atlantis.  The invisible plane transformed itself into an invisible submarine and dove into the water.  Batman stirred, blinked twice and sat up straight.

In the daytime, the beauty of the underwater world always filled me with delight; but it was night and there was little to see.  Then, as the invisible sub traveled deeper and deeper, I could make out the glittering lights ahead of us.  Atlantis, as beautiful at night as any surface city.

We were expected.  An opening formed in the dome around Atlantis to let us in.  The invisible plane took us to a towering building.  A pair of huge doors opened in one of the upper floors and the plane took us through it and into a large hangar.  As it set down, the doors closed and the sound of pumps filled the plane.  The water drained out.

We were there.

I ordered the invisible plane to form a ramp down to the floor and we slowly filed out.  Sand could barely stumble down the ramp.

Paul Booker, Major Disaster followed, looking impressed as his trademark overcoat swirled around him.  "Some place, huh, Batman?"

Batman looked down at him.  "You never told me why you weren't at the Watchtower, Disaster.  It was your turn in the Monitor Womb."

Booker wilted.  "I, uh, I must have overslept.  Sorry."  He glanced at Batman and added, "I'm **really** sorry."

"For not being dead?" I asked to break the tension.

"Hah!"  He liked that.  Then he saw Batman glaring at him.  "I mean, uh, I, uh...."

"This is not the time to discuss it," Batman decreed and Booker hurried down the ramp.

The others followed.  Damage, looking young and scared; Mary Marvel, looking worried; Flamebird looking excited.  Helena helped her daughter Cassie down the ramp.  I watched Wonder Girl hobble along, trying unsuccessfully to hide the pain every move caused and the anger I had kept locked in my heart flared to white heat.

Cassie looked up and tried to grin.  "Hey, Diana, just give me a little time and I'll be copacetic."

"Where did you pick up that word?" Helena asked, amused and anxious at the same time.

Cassie shrugged and then had to bite back the pain.  "Dunno, mom.  Sup'boy prob'ly," she slurred.

Helena looked at me, her worry plain to see.

"Medical facilities are down the hall, first door on your right and down a level," Batman said without ever looking at her.

Helena nodded and they started slowly and painfully on their way.

Changeling flew out in the form of a green bird, then turned into a terrier.  "I don't think we're in Kansas any more," he quipped.

Batman seemed to be wondering why he had bothered to rescue him, then shook his head and strode off.

I followed.  "What now?"

"Now I take stock of our resources and update plans with Oracle.  You," he stopped and turned to me, "rest.  You have about an hour before things start up again."

"Can't I help?"

He hesitated, then shook his head.  "Rest while you can."

Then he turned and strode off.  Impossible man.

The corridor opened up into a huge circular room filled with a scene from bedlam.  There were people and their possessions scattered everywhere, with bedding lining the sides of the room.  Most of the people, I realized, were civilians, presumably potential hostages, but there were plenty of superheroes as well.  All seemed to be talking at the top of their voices.  At the back I saw the two congressmen we had rescued, looking dazed and unsure what to make of it all.  Then I noticed someone walking determinedly towards us.

It was Dawn, Manitou Raven's wife.  She was dressed, as always, in traditional American Indian garb.  She always looked serious but now her grim expression rivaled Batman's.

"Dawn!" I exclaimed.  "I feared you had died when the Watchtower was destroyed.  Thank Hera you did not."

"I escaped by walking between.  It is something my husband taught me."  She frowned, made a strange a strange gesture and then shrugged.  "I walked between to the Earth."

"That far?"  I was amazed.

"All distances are the same between.  It was just a step.  It took me far longer to find you. There is strong magic here that hid you from my poor efforts."

"Dawn!"  Booker ran up and grabbed her by the shoulders.  "You made it!"  He grinned with relief.

Dawn's face turned stony.  Not even a person as insensitive as Paul Booker could miss the change.  His hands dropped and he took a step back, looking confused and suddenly tired.

"Why don't you get settled in," Batman told him evenly.  "You have an hour before the next stage begins.  Get some rest, if you can."

"Uh, yeah, that sounds good."  He turned and stomped away.  "Not like I've got anything better to do."

Dawn looked at Batman.  "I must speak to you about something important."

"Tell it to Wonder Woman."  He turned away and nodded at Nightwing, who had appeared at his shoulder.  I had not, of course, seen him come up.  They walked off together, talking softly.  My help was rejected, but Nightwing's was acceptable, evidently.  Impossible man.

I turned to Dawn and smiled brightly.  "Let's go find someplace where we can talk."

She nodded and I took her arm.  As we walked through the chaos of the room, I realized suddenly just how tired I was.  If this did not take long, I would take that nap.  How annoying, I thought, that Bruce should be right once more.

Author's Note:  Manitou Raven has demonstrated in JLA his ability to mysteriously disappear at one location and reappear at another.  Whether it would stretch to going from the Moon to the Earth is not clear.


	10. Taking Stock

Chapter 10: Taking Stock

All characters are the property of DC Comics.  No money is being made on this story and no infringement of copyright is intended.

We ran Batman to ground in the Hospital wing.  He accompanied a tall thin older woman with gray hair, clearly a doctor, as she made her rounds.  Despite the urgency of Dawn's news, I held her back and watched as they approached Gypsy's bed.

Gypsy was sitting up, her left shoulder and arm in a cast.  She looked at Batman and smiled bitterly.  "Come to chew me out for screwing up so bad?"

Batman stopped abruptly.  "I came to see if you are feeling up to more action."

The older woman with him snorted.  "In spite of the drugs, she is in a lot of pain and that shoulder needs to stay immobilized.  More action, as you put it, will only aggravate the injury."

Batman turned to her.  "I need Gypsy, Leslie."

"You still trust me after how I screwed up?"

Batman turned back to Gypsy.  "**I** screwed up.  It's only because of you and a few others that we still have a chance of turning this around.  But if we are going to stop Luthor, I need your help."

She looked at him curiously.  "You know he's dead?"

From the set of his shoulders, I knew Batman was giving her his almost smile.  "If you want to know the truth about that, come to the briefing in the main conference room in fifty minutes."

Gypsy looked at him a moment longer and then nodded.  "I'll be there."

Leslie sighed in exasperation.  As they walked away, she murmured, "Do you **always** have to get your way, Bru...."

He turned and glared at her.  She laughed.  "No one's close enough to overhear."

"Actually, I am."

They both whirled around.  I walked up to them, smiling and wondering who this Leslie was.  The name sounded vaguely familiar, but I knew I had never met her.

"Ah," Leslie smiled, "You must be Diana.  I have heard a great deal about you," she looked mischievously at Bruce, "and clearly none of it was exaggerated."

I looked wide-eyed at Batman, who actually looked discomfited.  "Oracle likes to gossip."

"Oracle isn't the only one."

Now I was really curious about this woman.  I smiled ingenuously and asked, "Aren't you going to introduce us, Batman?"

I noticed Leslie frown briefly as I said 'Batman'.

"This is Leslie Thompkins.  She is helping out Dr. Mid-Nite with our wounded.  The Atlanteans have provided medical facilities but they are not familiar with 'surface dweller' physiology.

"Leslie, this is Dawn, the wife of Manitou Raven, our newest member."

Dawn, looking as serious as always, bowed.  Leslie bowed back.

"Diana, clearly, does not need an introduction," Batman finished up.

"I thought you were going to take stock of resources?" I asked.

"That includes knowing which of the wounded can still help out."

I nodded at that.  "Dawn has urgent news."

He nodded slightly.  Dawn told her story, simply and starkly.  Leslie gasped, then determinedly bit back further response.  Batman's face was as cold and shuttered as always.  I wondered why it bothered me, and why I had thought it would be otherwise.

After Dawn had finished, Batman said, "Since you are down here, Leslie can run some tests on you.  We also need blood donations.  You are AB positive, I believe."

Leslie and I both looked at him in shocked surprise.  That was unfeeling, even for him.

Dawn, who had been perfectly composed while telling her story, suddenly turned pale.  She stepped back.  "No."  Her voice shook.  "I, no, I can't."

Leslie said gently, "After such an ordeal, it is a good idea to make sure you are all right, my dear."

Dawn shook her head, trembling.  "No."  She paused, groping for words.  "Your machines... they would steal my soul.  No."

Leslie sighed but said firmly, before Batman could interrupt, "Very well, dear; as you wish."

Batman grunted.  "A blood donation at least.  Your blood type is very rare."

Dawn kept shaking her head and backing away.  Abruptly, with a loss of composure I had never seen in her before, she turned and ran away.

Leslie turned on Bruce.  "Really, Br... Batman, that was incredibly rude!  What would Al..." she caught herself and continued, "what would your parents say?"

He flinched, ever so slightly, and I felt a moment of sympathy for him.

"So it's all right to beat up on gang-bangers and thugs as long as I am polite about it?" he shot back.  My temper went red-hot again.

"You have the manners of a pig!" I hissed.  "No, a pig would be more courteous.  Dawn is not a thug or a gang-banger but a **friend** who has been through a horrifying experience.  I am going to comfort her if I can; you can go to...."

"No."

"No?  Are you presuming to dictate to me, Batman?"

His tone changed not at all.  "There are more important things I need you to do."

I ground my teeth together but I knew he was right.  We were in a desperate situation; Dawn would have to take second place to that.

"What?" I demanded.

"See to the congressmen.  Make sure they are comfortable, but also make sure..."

"You want me to play nursery maid to the congressmen?  Their comfort is more important than Dawn's distress?"

"... make sure they talk to the people around them, that they understand all the pain and... distress... this has caused.  We need them on our side, Diana, emotionally as well as intellectually.  So, yes, their comfort is more important than Dawn's distress.  If you stop thinking with your emotions, you'll know I'm right."

We stared at each other for a long moment.  He continued, "You are the most diplomatic of us; you are the only one I trust with this.  But don't take too long.  I want you in the main conference room in thirty minutes so we can review strategy before the main meeting."

"I had better get some answers then," I growled.

"You'll get some."  My eyes widened in surprise.  Some answers, I noted, not all.  Still, it was a start.

"Very well."

"But first," Leslie interjected, "I need to check you over."

I shook my head.  "I am fine."

"So Amazon complexions are normally black and blue?  Over an underlying pallor?"

"I was injured but I heal very rapidly.  The bruises will be gone in a few hours.  I am somewhat tired, it is true, but I do not take artificial stimulants, so there is nothing you can do about that."

"We're testing everyone," Bruce interjected.  "Nightwing is upstairs arranging it right now.  No exceptions," he added ironically, "except for religion.  However, I think we can skip the blood donation in your case."

I nodded.  All members of the league were blood-typed for obvious reasons.  I remembered J'onn's comment when he typed my blood.

_It appears to be type O negative,_ he told me, _the universal donor.  But I got some odd results in the other tests, possibly because of your magical nature.  I would recommend you not give blood unless it is absolutely necessary.  I am not sure what effect it would have on the recipient._

"Then," Leslie said briskly, "as soon as we see to a couple of patients I will check you over."

Batman turned away.  The delay was probably for the best, I thought.  I was not feeling very diplomatic right now and I had better take a moment to regain my calm.

They approached a woman sitting in a chair and sipping from a cup.  Her long black hair fell down around her face as she looked into the cup, but I recognized her fishnet hose, top hat and tails.  Zatanna, stage magician and real magician in one, looked up and gave a tired smile.

"This stuff may have all the right metabolites and vitamins, Leslie, but it tastes like crap."

"That's so you know it's good for you."  Leslie took her wrist to measure her pulse.  Zatanna looked very pale and she was shivering.  She looked defiantly at Batman.

"I got them all, Batman, every last one.  They're all here, safe and sound.  But so many teleports in so short a time," she shuddered, "it really takes it out of you."

 I realized who had been Batman's other pick up team.

"Which is why you should be in bed resting."  Leslie shined her pen light in Zatanna's eyes.

Batman nodded.  "Get some rest, Zatanna.  I'll need you later."

Zatanna smiled sardonically.  "Such fulsome praise, Batman.  I'm overcome."

"You don't need me to tell you, you did a good job."

Zatanna's smile became more genuine.  "No, no, I don't."

Batman and Leslie moved on to Impulse's bed.  He had a cast on his left leg to the hip and on his right arm and shoulder.  His color was good, however, and he had no IV hooked up.  He was playing a hand-held video game with his left hand, but then he looked up and saw Batman approaching.  He paled.

"Batman, I'm sorry, I triedtogettoherbutthereweretheserayblastersandtheywentoffwhenI-triedtogetclosewelltheywereinvisiblebutIcouldseewheretheyknockedpeopledownandIhad-torescuethemandJaywashitandIhadtotakehimhomeand...."

"Impulse," Batman interrupted firmly, "you did fine."

Bart's jaw dropped.  "You're not mad at me?"

Batman frowned.  "Am I such an ogre that everybody expects me to be mad at them?"

Bart looked confused.  "Is that a trick question?" he asked suspiciously.

Leslie roared with laughter.  I had to smile as well.

"How many people did you save?" Bruce asked quietly.

Bart thought for a moment.  "Fifty-three?  Fifty-four?  I didn't keep track."

Leslie stopped laughing and I was taken aback.  So many?

"That's a good job in anybody's book, Impulse," Bruce replied.

Bart digested this.  Then he looked straight at Bruce.  "Not Impulse.  Kid Flash."

Bruce smiled slightly and nodded.  "Wally will be proud."

"But," Leslie interjected, "he is staying right here.  We had to re-break the bones, they had healed all wrong." She turned to Bart.  "If you don't stay still and let them heal right this time, you may limp for the rest of your life.

Bart froze.  Every muscle was rigid with the effort not to move a millimeter.  Beads of sweat started to form on his brow.

Leslie chuckled.  "Not that still.  Just don't move that leg or your right arm and **don't** get out of bed."

Bart let out a breath of relief.

An Atlantean came up to Batman, whose face turned to stone once more.  He stepped away from the bed and I heard the Atlantean whisper to him.

"Green goo... seeping up from the ocean floor into the basement... never seen anything like it... could it perhaps have something to do with you surface dwellers?"

He looked at me and I couldn't repress a grin.

He turned back to the Atlantean.  "Wonder Woman will investigate as soon as she has been tested."

He walked off without a backward look, his cape swirling around him.  He could be so cold to Dawn, then turn around and treat Bart like that and just walk off without a word.  Impossible man.

Author's Note: According to Impulse #50, Batman gave Bart the name Impulse, only he intended it as a warning rather than a name.  Leslie Thompkins was Bruce's guardian (together with Alfred) after his parents died and doctors all the Batclan, although she does not altogether approve of their activities.  Zatanna is noted for appearing and disappearing in a puff of smoke.


	11. Explanations

Chapter 11: Explanations

All characters are the property of DC Comics.  No money is being made on this story and no infringement of copyright is intended.

I ushered Senator Connelly and Representative Zabrowski into the main conference room.  The seating was arranged auditorium-style, facing a podium on a raised platform.  Behind the podium, the curved transparent wall gave a stunning view of Atlantis, with an amazing variety of fish swimming by.  I seated them in the front row.  I saw other people drifting in, talking among themselves.  A number had come back with me on the invisible plane; Zatanna must have brought others.  One in particular caught my eye and I hurried over.

"Supergirl!"  I exclaimed, grinning.  "I hadn't hoped to see you here.  Kal told me that you had..."

"Run away?  Turned into an angry, hate-filled bitch?"

"... taken some time off to come to terms with things."

She laughed gratingly.  "That's one way to put it.  Except I never intended to come back."

"But you have."

Her smile was filled with venom.  "Batman made me an offer I couldn't refuse."

I looked at her questioningly and she added, "A piece of Luthor.  I owe him and I intend to collect."

She walked off.  I wondered if Batman thought he could control her.

Major Disaster strode into the room, his shoulders thrown back and his chest thrown out.  I had told him the first row was reserved for the JLA and he clearly liked the idea.  I walked over to join him as he stopped and stared suspiciously at the two congressmen.

He turned to me and whispered, "They aren't JLA."

"They are congressmen," I whispered back, amused in spite of myself.

"Ah."  He nodded knowingly.  "I guess they can sit anywhere they want."  He continued on to the front of the room and sat in the middle of the first row.  I sat between him and the congressmen.

The room was starting to fill up rapidly.  The costumes of the superheroes were bright splashes of color in among the civilians.  The JSA came in together and sat down one of the middle rows.  There were pitifully few of them: Wildcat, Power Girl, the Star-Spangled Kid, Hourman.  S.T.R.I.P.E., Courtney's mentor, sat with them.  Dr Mid-Nite was with his patients, Sand was still recovering and the rest were captured, missing or wounded.  Lois Lane smiled perfunctorily at me and sat down in the middle of the second row.

I saw Gypsy take a seat at the back, not far from Lian Harper and her nanny, Rose Hunter.  Lian waved but, even from this distance, she looked scared.  I waved back as cheerfully as I could manage.  Nightwing sat down next to Lian and said something that got a laugh out of her.  Robin and Batgirl, I knew, would not be present.  I saw Helena Sandsmark slip quietly into one of the rear seats, a determined look on her face.  I had only time for a few words with her earlier.  She told me she would come in hopes of understanding why they would hurt Cassie the way they had.  I hoped she got the answers she needed, for I had none for her.

Only a few people were still trailing in when the double doors at the back were thrown open by two Atlantean guards and Queen Mera entered.  She marched down the center aisle and up to the podium, her red hair swirling around her and setting off the gold coronet she wore.  Her green eyes flashed, her face was stern.  Angry though I was at her treatment of Arthur, I could not deny she looked every inch the Monarch.  She turned to face her now-silent audience.

She looked at the congressmen and nodded.  "Senator, Congressman, welcome to Atlantis."

She scanned the audience.  "All of you are welcome in our city.  We Atlanteans do not forget all that you have done for this world, nor what so many of you did for Atlantis.  We reject the claims that you are criminals and terrorists.  But we have no desire for war with the United States.  You all may have asylum here for as long as you require, but we will not involve ourselves in this matter.  You must resolve it for yourselves."

With that, she turned away from the podium and, flanked by her two guards, marched back down the center aisle past her stunned audience.  Every eye watched as the double doors slammed shut behind her.  When our attention returned to the front of the hall, Batman was standing at the podium.  I doubt more than two people saw him enter.

He looked at our two guests.

"Senator Connelly, Representative Zabrowski, I promised you an explanation of what's going on.  Now is the time for that explanation."

"The rest of us would like to know, too," Changeling called out.  Batman ignored him, focusing his attention on the two congressmen.

"It started shortly after the Imperiex War, when Luthor created the Human Defense Corps, ostensibly to defend against future alien invasions."

"Ostensibly?" interjected Zabrowski.  "Why do you say that?"

Batman leaned over the podium and fixed the Congressman with his gaze.  "What use would ground troops, even hi-tech ground troops have been against the Imperiex probes?"

"Well…."

"Even if they could have defeated a probe, the destruction and devastation would have been immense.  Why not stop them – or any other invader – out in space, where there would be no collateral damage?  Why not build space ships, killer satellites, laser battle stations instead of armored hover vans and hand blasters?"

I could tell the congressman had no answer to that.

"From Day One, the HDC has trained to fight super-powered opponents.  That might help against Daxamites, but most potential invaders don't have super powers, just very advanced technology.  But metas do.  Whether they realize it or not, the HDC has been training to take on the metahumans, the 'super heroes'."

Batman let that sink in for a moment.  "Creating a new armed service cannot be done by administrative fiat; it has to be authorized by Congress."

Zabrowski nodded.  "Yes, I remember."

"And the head of an armed service must be approved by Congress.  Do you remember who was the first head of the HDC?"

"Of course.  General 'Chuck' Bingham.  But why do you say 'first'?  Isn't he still…?"

"General Bingham was decorated for valor in Vietnam and served with distinction in Desert Storm.  He's known for his rapport with the troops and his absolute incorruptibility.  Just the sort of man Congress – or anyone – would want in such a position of authority.  His appointment sailed through Congress without a hiccup.  Too bad he was forced to retire six months ago.  Bad bill of health – although his health seems to have improved greatly since then.  His doctor can't find anything wrong with him.

"Normally command would have passed to General Austen, his second in command.  He is another like Bingham – except for one thing.  He holds grudges.  One of those grudges is with Admiral Byrnes, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.  So it seemed a little strange when Austen was appointed as Vice-Chairman – Byrnes' second-in-command.  Those two have been constantly feuding ever since the appointment – which, incidentally, was less than a month before Bingham retired.  As a result, Byrnes and his staff are too busy bickering to provide adequate oversight of the HDC, which is being run by the man who originally was only third in the chain of command.

"You'll remember him, Congressman.  He figured prominently in your probe into bribery and kickbacks in Army procurement a few years back.  General Amos Danforth."

"Danforth!"  Zabrowski's eyes snapped wide at the name.  "I thought they had stuck him away someplace where he couldn't do any more harm."

"They did, but Luthor brought him back.  Luthor has also been stalling on naming a new permanent head of the HDC, since that would require the approval of Congress.  So Danforth has been acting head for the past six months.  By the way, do you remember who Danforth was accused of accepting bribes from?"

"Sure.  It was … LexCorp."

"If you have been wondering why you were on Luthor's hit-list, that's why."

"That's ridiculous.  It wasn't personal, it was just politics."

"Luthor doesn't see things that way.  He takes everything personally."  Batman leaned back.  "That was Step One.  Step Two was reopening Belle Reeve."

I saw blank looks from more than just the two congressmen.

"Belle Reeve was used for many years as a federal prison for super villains.  It was replaced several years ago by the Slab, which is more secure.  However, the Slab is full up.  Belle Reeve was reopened to handle the less dangerous convicts.  It probably didn't seem important that the new head was another Luthor crony.  But then some **very **dangerous convicts started being shipped there.  You met one today – Gorilla Grodd.  Actually, you met a number of them.  We'll get to that shortly."

Zabrowski grimaced.  "How can you keep implying that Luthor planned this, when he was killed by the attackers?" he demanded.  He evidently remembered the newscasts he had seen, for he added doubtfully, "…or badly wounded."

"He was killed," Gypsy called from the back.  "I saw it.  A plasma bolt at least half a foot across burned right through him.  He's dead."

"Is that what you saw?" Batman demanded of the congressmen.  Connelly looked uncertain; Zabrowski grimaced but nodded.

"Yeah, I saw it go all the way through him.  I don't know how he could have survived it."

"He didn't," Batman told him, "but it wasn't Lex Luthor.  It was a clone."

"A clone?" the Congressman repeated in surprise.  "A clone?"  He sounded skeptical now.

"Yes.  It's not the first time Luthor has used clones.  Do you remember the incident the press called 'The Fall of Metropolis'?"

The senator looked puzzled; but Zabrowski responded, "Wasn't he cleared of all charges?"

"He blamed everything on an evil clone."

Batman let that sink in and then added, "So step three was establishing a clone factory.  He needed at least two clones: one to be attacked at the Capitol and a second, wounded exactly the right amount, to present to the world as Luthor.  The second was important, not just because he couldn't depend on the first surviving the attack.  Everyone has to think Luthor is incapacitated, but not so badly that his later 'miraculous recovery' is unbelievable."

The Senator looked confused.  "I don't understand."

"You heard Pete Ross.  Tomorrow morning, he is going before Congress to ask for sweeping powers to deal with this crisis.  Is he going to get them?"

"Yes," the Senator replied with certainty.

"Would they agree so readily if it was Luthor?  If Luthor hadn't been injured, how many would have smelled a rat?"

"Well…."

"You don't know, and neither does Luthor.  There are plenty of people in Congress who don't trust him.  But they trust Pete Ross.  He was one of them and they know he is as honest as they come.  While Luthor never hid his disdain for super heroes, Ross has always been friendly with them, especially Superman.  So when Ross claims that the super heroes are a threat, they'll believe him and grant him the powers he asks for.

"Then Luthor will suddenly recover – not completely, not all at once, perhaps, but enough to resume the Presidency.  At that point, he will have what amounts to dictatorial powers and he won't have any further need of Pete or Congress.  How long do you think either will survive after that?  A second attack that wipes out Congress will bring the fear and panic to a fever pitch.  It will also eliminate the danger that Congress might rescind his powers.  Luthor will be left unchallenged and unchallengeable.  All he has to do then is stop the 'evil metas' – easy since he created the threat in the first place – and people will not only accept his rule, they will idolize him.  And the United States will cease to be a democracy."

Silence, as people digested his words.  The Batman continued.

"Of course, Luthor won't want to **completely** eliminate the metahuman threat, because then he might be expected to give up the powers he had been granted to deal with the crisis.  Less than half metas we know have been captured were reported on the news.  He can use the rest to keep the 'crisis' going – releasing them one at a time and then publicly 'capturing' them as needed.  And Ross reported an attack on Belle Reeve that released a number of super villains.  No super hero has been near Belle Reeve since this started.  That was Luthor covering his ass – it explains any of his fake Justice Leaguers who happen to get captured, like Gorilla Grodd.  But it also gives him a way to produce a super villain whenever he needs one to terrorize the populace.  He'll say they escaped when Belle Reeve was attacked.

"And when those sources run dry, well, that clone factory can be used to produce other things besides Luthor clones.  I know he has DNA from a number of metas.  He can 'mix and match' DNA to create new threats."

Zabrowski stirred.  "But how do you know this?  Or is it just a guess on your part?"

Batman grinned viciously.  I heard more than one sharp intake of breath from around the room.

"I know because we've located his clone factory.  We know where he's been doing all this."

Batman took advantage of the silence this produced to continue.

"The next step was to use the abilities of two of Belle Reeve's most dangerous inmates: Jervis Tetch and Jonathan Crane, better known as the Mad Hatter and the Scarecrow."

"Those two clowns?" laughed Flamebird.  Many others joined in.  Flamebird abruptly stopped laughing under Batman's annihilating glare.

"They may not be physically impressive, but consider what Luthor can do with Crane's ability to artificially induce terror and Tetch's mind control technology."

Nobody was laughing now.

"Luthor has already used their expertise to build and put in orbit a series of satellites which beam emissions on a frequency that stimulates the central nucleus of the amygdala in the temporal lobes of the brain.  In layman's terms, he's beaming fear into the brain of everyone in the U.S. who isn't properly shielded.

"Senator, do you remember the budget request to purchase new helmets for the military on an expedited basis?  It went through your sub-committee."

Connelly nodded, but face told me a different story. 

"There were plenty of congressmen who didn't understand the rush – and the extra cost that involved – nor why the DoD wanted to go back to metal helmets.  But it was shortly after the Imperiex War and no one wanted to appear to be pinching pennies at the expense of 'our men and women in uniform.'

"The new metal helmets stop the fear transmissions.  Heavily armed and terrified soldiers are not a good idea, unless you **want** 'incidents'.  Interestingly, the First Special Armored Division of the HDC hadn't gotten their new helmets yet.  That division provided the troops at Washington and New York.  Now that Luthor has the incidents he wants, I expect they are receiving their helmets as we speak.

"Unfortunately, the satellites are shielded from our scans.  We can determine their approximate positions from their transmission 'footprints' but…."

"So you can't actually see these satellites, but you know Luthor put them up?" Zabrowski interrupted, looking skeptical.

"We can detect their transmissions.  Moreover, you felt their effect."

"Fear was natural under the circumstances.  I don't need some mythical 'fear satellites' to explain it."

"Such extreme fear?  Do you remember how it suddenly disappeared, or at least diminished to more reasonable levels, when we entered the JSA mansion?  Or how the same thing happened when the invisible plane passed out of the transmission footprint halfway to Atlantis?"

"Well…."

"Never mind.  I can show you more concrete evidence than that.  Let's move on."

He stopped momentarily and I could see the strain etched in the corners of his mouth.  If the plan was to have any chance of success, he had to convince these two men.  And persuasion – at least this sort of persuasion – was not his strong suit. 

"The last step was to wait for the bulk of the JLA to leave on a mission in space.  That happened 52 hours ago.  We took great care to avoid being spotted by the HDC's Deep Space Monitoring Network, but Luthor knew they were gone almost immediately.  Twelve hours after their departure, Mr. Terrific was shot.  The shooter's M.O. matches Deadshot, who is supposed to be locked up in Belle Reeve.  Twenty-four hours after that, Jakeem Williams disappeared."

That caused a stir, as I had expected.

"Jakeem?  But…."

"Good God.  That means Luthor has the Thunderbolt," Blue Beetle exclaimed.  "All he has to do is have Tetch 'hat' Jakeem and then….  The Thunderbolt can do anything!  It can warp reality, change physical law, make entropy run backwards!"  From Beetle's tone of voice, that was the ultimate accomplishment.

Batman interrupted.  "Luthor may have Jakeem mind-controlled, but Jakeem can't do anything without the Thunderbolt.  That's why I broke into Jakeem's room last night and replaced the Thunderbolt's container with a pen filled with phosphorescent ink."

"You what!?!"  Wildcat, Power Girl and Hourman jumped to their feet.  Hourman looked aghast; Wildcat and Power Girl looked ready to take a swing at Batman.  Courtney had not stood but she looked furious and frightened at the same time.

"It might not have been necessary, if you had taken my warning more seriously, but I could not risk the Thunderbolt falling into Luthor's hands."

"If you hadn't stolen the Thunderbolt," Power Girl shouted, "Luthor could have never have grabbed Jakeem in the first place!"

"Nonsense.  I can think of more than a dozen ways to take Jakeem down before he could call the Thunderbolt.  You think Luthor couldn't come up with one of his own?"

Wildcat scowled and raised a clenched fist.  "I oughta…."

I stood abruptly.  "Enough!"

Silence.  "What's done is done.  Fighting over it only wastes the little time we have left to fix matters.  You might remember that, if not for the Batman, you three would be dead or in Luthor's clutches.  Now sit down."

They sat down.

Batman continued unfazed.

"That brings us almost to the assault on the Capitol.  But a couple of things happened just before that.  At 4:56pm Eastern Standard Time – two minutes before the attack – the JLA communications net went down.  Other channels of communication were heavily jammed.  I had set up a separate back-up system against such a possibility, which was supposed to come on-line if the primary comm net went down.  But it did **not** come on-line, because it was getting a signal showing the JLA comm net was working and we couldn't manually activate it because of the jamming.  Fortunately, the Lansinarian technology of Wonder Woman's invisible jet was advanced enough to overcome the jamming, but the warning went out almost twelve minutes late, giving Luthor enough time to take out key targets before they could be warned."

Batman did something and the wall behind him suddenly became a giant view screen.  An image of a small suburban town appeared.  In the lower right corner time, longitude and latitude were indicated.

"These images were taken by a U.S. spy satellite earlier today.  Note the time.  We are now down to 4:57pm, one minute before the attack."

"Do you routinely intercept the transmissions of American military satellites?" asked Zabrowski sardonically.

"Yes."  I rolled my eyes.  I **told** him to play down that aspect.

The images kept zooming in, first on a tract of houses and then on a single house, as the time ticked down second by second.

"The government doesn't monitor **every** house in the country, does it?" asked Connelly confusedly.

"No, just this one.  This is the residence of a member of the JLA presently on leave – the Martian Manhunter.  Watch."

The details of the suburban ranch house were clear to see now.  If I strained, I could almost make out the street number on the mailbox.  The screen suddenly split.  The second image was of a satellite.  A large one, I guessed, although scale was difficult to determine.  The time on both images matched.

"This is Whitehorse – a prototype space-based laser system to shoot down ballistic missiles.  It can also be used for other things, as we are about to see.  We are now down to forty seconds before the attack on the Capitol."

Suddenly, a bolt of light shot out of Whitehorse.  At the same moment, the house exploded in a fireball.  My breath caught in my throat.

"The Martian Manhunter is, of course, vulnerable to fire.  Although the explosion wouldn't have hurt him, the house was made of wood and, as you can see, burst instantly into flame.  He had absolutely no warning and the fire was so hot that, well….  We know he lasted several seconds as he contacted several of us telepathically.  His agony was indescribable.  The other inhabitant of the house was more fortunate – the explosion would have killed her instantly."

"His girlfriend?" asked Zabrowski flippantly in an attempt to ward off horror with humor.

I bristled at his attitude as much as his implication that a green-skinned Martian couldn't have a girlfriend.

Batman leaned forward and his blank eyes narrowed.

"I felt his **pain**, Congressman."

The image of Whitehorse winked out and the image of the house started zooming back out.  I breathed again.  Batman froze the image when it covered about a square mile.

"You see those vehicles heading towards the fire?"

"Fire engines?" hazarded Connelly.  "That's a quick response."

"Not fire engines."  Batman used a cursor to mark the area and expanded it.  Detail started to get a little fuzzy but it was clear what they were.

"Hover tanks and armored hover vans of the HDC.  Note the time.  We are still seconds away from the attack on the Capitol, but they were already in position."  Batman unfroze the images and we watched as they moved to the house and surrounded it.  Ant-sized figures disembarked and, guns ready, approached the burning remains of the house.

"Wonder Woman passed over just under an hour later.  They were still there, digging thru the embers.  Luthor was taking no chances that the Martian Manhunter might have survived."

The image switched to the interior of the Capitol.

"That brings us up to the time of the attack.  Although the session was closed door, it was videotaped for the Congressional record.  These images have been broadcast, repeatedly, since the attack."

Luthor was at the podium speaking, but Batman had the sound turned down too low to understand the words.  Suddenly, the roof caved in, or so it appeared.  In fact, as the camera panned up, it became clear it was only a small part of the roof.  Thru the opening came… it was hard to remember this was **not** the JLA.

"Quite convincing, aren't they?" asked Batman as Superman, two Green Lanterns (Kyle Rayner and John Stewart) and Captain Atom drifted down through the opening.  Kyle's ring was projecting a green platform on which crouched Arsenal, Major Disaster and Green Arrow.  Firestorm flew thru right behind them.

He continued, "However, notice how the camera pans away before we catch sight of the 'Martian Manhunter'.  In fact, he isn't on any of the released footage.  The reason, of course, is that he's really Gorilla Grodd and – while Grodd could convince everyone there that he's the Martian Manhunter – the camera would show his real appearance."

The camera followed Firestorm as he zoomed to the back of the chamber, where he turned the doors, and the guard standing in front of them, to gas.  The Flash and Jesse Quick zipped thru and paused momentarily in the doorway.  A cry could be heard and the camera jerked back to the podium, where two Secret Service men carried Luthor's smoking body away while the others fought – and died – to cover them.

"Note also that we don't get to see the beam burning clear thru 'Luthor'.  We only see that he was badly wounded.  Nothing to contradict the official story.  Now let's examine the 'JLA'.

The camera had swung back up to take in the JLAers, hovering above the chamber.

"First Superman."  The picture froze and a section showing Superman's right hand enlarged.  Something looked not quite right about one knuckle.  Batman expanded that section and a very grainy knuckle jumped out at us, looking malformed with a spot of white in the middle.

"We did some computer enhancement and got this."  The image snapped into clear detail.  A flap of skin had been ripped back from the knuckle; underneath was white and crystalline.

"The crystallization is typical of the imperfect Superman clones the press have nicknamed 'Bizarros'.  LexCorp developed the process for creating Bizarros – in fact Luthor actually patented the process.  Evidently, the artificial skin used to make the Bizarro look more like Superman wasn't strong enough.  The Bizarro is presumably being controlled using the Mad Hatter's mind control technology, as they are not noted for their docility."

The view expanded to include the two Green Lanterns as well.

"Green Lantern presented a bit of a problem for Luthor.  The well-known one is the one on the right with the weakness for Manga.  Knowledgeable people would know he had been replaced, but others might just think the other one was an imposter.  His solution: have them both present.  It would be assumed the one on the right had returned from his journeys in space."

Batman pulled out a rig from inside the podium.  It consisted of outsized shoulder straps supporting a wide, thick metallic belt.  He handed it to Zabrowski, who handled it gingerly as if wondering if it might bite.  Connelly watched quizzically.

I stood.  "I took that rig off Grodd," I told them.  "According to our resident expert, it is derived from the propulsion system in the Team Lex power suits."

"That's right!" shouted Blue Beetle, just in case anyone was in doubt as to who our resident expert was.  I sat down again.

Batman focused the view onto the two Green Lanterns.  "The outfit of the one on the right might almost be designed to hide a rig like this underneath it, but if you look carefully, you can see the outline of a similar rig under the costume of the one on the left."

The image expanded.

"By Jove!" exclaimed Connelly, "you **can** see it."  Zabrowski nodded.

"Then," Batman continued, "there is the matter of the green 'plasma bolts' they are firing.  Watch carefully."

'John Stewart' slowly extended his arm, rolled his fist slightly and a green beam shot out.

"He's doing something strange with his hand," Connelly realized.

Batman nodded, backed up the image and restarted it slower than before.  He paused it just as the beam shot out.

"The beam isn't coming out of his ring," the Ray called out, "it's coming out of his fist!"

"Something held **in** his fist," Batman corrected.  He backed up the image again and reran it in even slower motion.  This time, based on the surge of sotto-voce comments, everyone caught it.

"It appears," Batman commented, "to be something like the plasma pulse rifles of the HDC, only much more compact."  This time he didn't stop the image and it continued moving, very slowly.  "Of course, those fire a yellow-white beam, but if you place the correct filter over the aperture it would tint the beam green.  The filter would burn out after two or three shots and have to be replaced.  That is what is occurring now."

'John Stewart' had pulled his fist back to his chest and was slowly, stealthily, putting his other hand over it.  It was impossible to tell just what he did, but he **could **have been replacing the filter on the blaster hidden in his fist.

"Although a power ring can do just about anything the wearer wants, the two Green Lanterns do nothing but fire simple energy bolts," Batman concluded.

"Wait a minute!"  Zabrowski objected.  "One of them created a platform to carry the others!"

"No," Batman contradicted, "it just looks as if he did."  He pulled a chunk of something transparent out of his utility belt and tossed it to Zabrowski, who caught it reflexively.

"As 'Tail-end Charlie' in our little parade out of the Capitol building, I had a chance to look around without being obvious about it.  I found that.  What does that look like to you?"

The congressman rolled it over in his hands.  "It's plastic of some sort.  Maybe Plexiglas?"

"Close but not quite."  Batman fished out a flashlight and tossed it to Zabrowski.  "That's a penlight with a green filter on it."

Zabrowski looked it over suspiciously, turned it on and pointed it at various objects.  "Okay, I believe you.  What am I supposed to do with it?"

"Use it on the plastic."  Zabrowski did as he was told.  The plastic suddenly glowed green.

"That is a piece of the platform that carried 'Arsenal', Major Disaster and 'Green Arrow'.  It evidently shattered when the rest of the roof fell in.  The platform did not hold them aloft; they held **it** aloft."

An image of the three pseudo-heroes on the platform appeared behind him.  It expanded until we could just make out what could have been the outlines of rigs similar to Grodd's under their costumes.  We could also see that each was grasping the edge of the platform.

"Let's move on to 'Firestorm'.  It certainly looks like Firestorm, but there are several pyrokinetic reactions that could produce his characteristic hair and 'wake'.  There is the matter of his transmuting the door and guard, but Firestorm is not the only one capable of doing that."

"Ooh!"  Blue Beetle waved his hand furiously.  "I know the answer!  Call on me, teach!"

I couldn't help grinning at his antics, or the way Batman's glare abruptly shut him up.  Batman turned his attention back to the congressmen.

"As Blue Beetle would no doubt tell you, Doctor Alchemy – a long-time foe of the Flash – can also transmute objects.  He uses a 'wand' but, as you can see in this later image…."

A picture of 'Firestorm', frozen in flight outside the Capitol building in the process of transmuting a tank, appeared behind him.  His arm was stretched out towards the tank, palm out.  Batman enlarged the image of his hand and we could see a small protrusion at the wrist.

"He just stuffed the wand up his sleeve!" cried Elongated Man.  "Sonuva…."

"Exactly," Batman replied.  The image enlarged to show all of 'Firestorm'.  "You can see that he is wearing one of the Team Lex rigs under his uniform, as well."

The picture behind the Batman changed to the Flash and Jesse Quick frozen in the doorway of the chamber.  The Flash looked very unhappy, Jesse grinned as if anticipating a treat.

"Let's move on to the two speedsters.  We did some comparisons.  Since the height of the doors is known, we were able to …" the image split, to show the real Flash and the fake Flash with scales next to both "… calculate the height of the 'Flash'.  The perspective is a little difficult but, as you can see, this Flash is two to three inches shorter than the real one.  Also …"

We now saw slow-motion images of the fake Flash outside the Capitol.  Alongside it was the real Flash, also moving in slow motion.

"… you can see they have very different gaits.  The fake Flash lopes, swinging his arms, while the Flash has a shorter but much faster stride and holds his arms in close to his body."

The real Flash disappeared, replaced by another speedster in a different red and white costume.  Batman let the two – the fake Flash and the new speedster – run alongside each other in slow motion for a minute.  Nobody could miss the identical gait of the two images.

"Anatole is a Russian émigré.  He was part of a Soviet experiment to create their own super heroes.  He came to the United States years ago and helped found 'Kapitalist Kourier,' specializing in small packages that have to get there immediately.  He was on his way to receiving his citizenship when Luthor became president.  Within two months, he was turned down for citizenship and started having visa problems.  He was threatened with expulsion.  Then he disappeared.  It seems he has found a way out of his visa problems.  It's worth noting that he is the only one of the fake heroes who does not injure or kill anyone on any of the released footage.  He merely runs around, pretending to be the Flash.

"But Luthor didn't limit things to the JLA.  That is too finite a threat.  Once the last member of the JLA is captured, the crisis is over.  So he had to include some non-JLA metas so he could claim that **all** metas are a threat.  You know how he dragged the JSA into it, but he also needed to implicate the Titans as well as metas not affiliated with any of the teams.  He chose to ignore Young Justice, but Superboy and Impulse showed up on their own."

Anatole was replaced by an image of the fake Jesse Quick.

"Christina Alexandrova is also a product of the Soviet super hero program but, otherwise, she could hardly be more different."  Batman showed a similar set of images of the real and fake 'Jesse' plus Christina while explaining, "She is a psychopath and a murderer.  She has worked for such super villains as Vandal Savage and Savitar.  She is supposed to be in Belle Reeve."

The speedsters were replaced by the fake Green Arrow, the real Green Arrow and another, all three frozen in the act of shooting an arrow.

"Notice the difference in the grip.  'Green Arrow' is actually the convicted assassin Merlin, another Belle Reeve 'alumnus'.  That is presumably the reason for including Green Arrow, since he is not, in fact, a meta."

I could see the difference, but I doubted the congressmen could.  They nodded anyway, apparently on data overload.

"We haven't been able to identify the fake Arsenal.  The real Arsenal didn't return home last night.  This is… not unheard of, so no alarm was raised until it was too late.

"Luthor could not risk the real super heroes showing up.  Nothing would wreck his plot more surely than footage of the real super heroes fighting the fake ones.  Jesse Quick runs her own business and would be missed, so she couldn't disappear ahead of time.  That might seem to make her a strange choice, but – given the identical costumes – it would be almost impossible to tell whether there were two super speedsters present or whether there was one who only appears to be in two places at once because she's moving so fast.  DEO agents showed up at her place of work within minutes of the attack.  It is very difficult to take a super fast meta by surprise, but they managed it.  Her administrative assistant swears Jesse was working in her office all afternoon.

"In the case of the JLA, Luthor used members who left two days ago on that mission in space."

Paul Booker shifted in his chair.  "You forgot me.  They got a fake Major Disaster."

Batman turned his gaze to Major Disaster.  "I didn't forget you," he told Booker.  "You're a special case, so I will leave you to last."

Booker nodded and lapsed back into silence.

Batman continued, "Luthor apparently knows just who left and who stayed.  He didn't include Faith or Raven Manitou in his 'JLA', but their powers are particularly hard to fake and they aren't widely known."

From their faces, I doubted either congressman knew who they were.

"Green Arrow always takes a nap in the afternoon before going out on patrol."

I suppressed a smile.  Poor Oliver was finding it difficult to keep up the strenuous life style of a super hero now that he was on the wrong side of forty.  Bruce could probably sympathize.

"DEO agents captured him in his bed in Star City," Batman continued, "again, minutes after the attack on the Capitol, three thousand miles away."

"You haven't mentioned Captain Atom," Zabrowski pointed out.

"Because we don't know the facts in his case.  We can only speculate.  But he is known for his staunch patriotism.  It would be easy for Luthor to lure him in with a request for help and then use the Mad Hatter to take control of his mind and work him like a puppet."

A hint of worry crossed Booker's face.

Batman shrugged.  "But we don't know."

"That really **is** Captain Atom?" demanded Zabrowski.

"It appears to be.  His powers are quite distinctive and there is plenty of footage of his using them outside against the HDC."

"You admit that one of your number attacked us and you still expect us to trust you?"

"What about me?"  Booker broke in loudly.  "You've talked about all the others.  Who's the fake me?"

Batman turned his gaze on Major Disaster and I tensed.

"It's no fake, Booker.  That's you."

"Huh?  You… what do you mean?"

"You disappeared for thirty-six hours immediately after the mission to Kylaq.  You showed up at the next meeting looking hung over.  We all thought you had been on a bender.  But that's not what happened.  They grabbed you.  The Mad Hatter normally needs an electronic device next to your skin to control you, but Luthor knew that would never get past the Watchtower's security systems.  So the Scarecrow ferreted out your every fear and turned them against you while the Mad Hatter brainwashed you.  And afterwards they didn't need any electronic device because your programming was burned into your subconscious."

"You're lying!"  Booker jumped to his feet and took a step towards Batman, his fists clenched.  Sweat broke out on his forehead.  I stood and stepped behind him – waiting for the signal, praying it wouldn't come.

"You told Luthor about the mission to D'K'Nor and who had gone on it.  Then, at 4:50 pm this afternoon, you teleported up to the Watchtower.  There you sabotaged the comm system, booby trapped the Watchtower and attacked Dawn."

"NO!"  Booker cried, taking another step toward Batman.  "I would never…."

"Yes."

I had not seen Dawn approach.  She stepped towards Booker, her face as grave and emotionless as ever.  He turned towards her and seemed to collapse in upon himself.

"You seized my arms.  I thought you intended rape.  I stepped between to escape.  Now I understand it was not your doing, that others controlled you.  I forgive you."

"NO!"  Booker turned towards Batman.  "You turned **her** against me, too!  You think I don't know how all of you laugh about me behind my back and call me 'Major Dork'?  But she liked me anyways.  She was the only one and now you got her thinking I'm crazy.  I'm gonna…."

The ground quivered under our feet.  Batman stepped up to Booker and put his hands on his shoulders.

"This isn't you, Booker, this is their subconscious programming.  I know you can fight it.  I know you are stronger than this."

"I…."

Booker started shaking and the quivering escalated into a continuous rolling.  I heard mutterings from behind me and now I prayed Batman would not wait too long before he gave the signal to take Booker down.  What a poor return on their hospitality, I thought, if Booker lays waste to Atlantis.

Batman gripped the man's shoulders.  "You can do it, Booker, you can beat them.  Or are you the puppet they think you are?"

There was a single sharp shake and someone screamed.  Then it stopped.  Booker slumped against Batman who said, quietly, "Good man."

Batman turned his head.  "Jade, give Booker a hand to the hospital wing."  He turned back to Booker.  "They can help you."

Jade, glowing slightly green, came up and stretched out a hand towards Booker, but he brushed it off.

"I don't need your help," Booker snarled.  He straightened slowly and trudged down the center aisle, followed uncertainly by Jade.

"How do we know," Empress wondered, looking around worriedly, "who else Luthor has gotten to?"

"Because," Batman replied coldly, "everyone got an EEG as part of their medical exam – except Dawn, who refused on religious grounds.  And since she not only warned us about Major Disaster but has not left the Watchtower – the one place I know Luthor can't get into – since before the Mad Hatter disappeared from Belle Reeve, she's safe.  Only Booker failed his EEG.  The rest of you are clean."

"Oh."

"Well, **I'm** not satisfied," Zabrowski announced loudly.  "How do you expect us to trust you after that display?"

Batman turned his attention back to the congressman.  "You want to know?  Fine, I'll show you."

A new image took shape behind him.  Even frozen, with maximum computer enhancement, the figure was little more than a blur.

"This is Kid Flash, formerly known as Impulse."  A murmur spread across the room as the name change sunk in.  "He was summoned by Gypsy shortly after the start of the attack.  Since he was coming from Keystone City, over a thousand miles away, it took him about ninety seconds to arrive; time enough – unfortunately – for the fake superheroes to make their escape.

"On his approach to Washington, he tripped sensors Luthor had emplaced to detect the approach of super fast metas, triggering force beam projectors around the Capitol."

The image shifted to the Capitol.  Everything moved in ultra-slow motion.

"The force beams themselves are invisible but you can see their effect on the soldiers.  Note Kid Flash hasn't even arrived yet."

Soldiers started being knocked over and flung away from the building as Bart's blur entered the far side of the picture.

"The effect of the force beams is roughly equivalent to running headlong into a brick wall.  Most of the soldiers are just knocked out, but that one there…" a circle appeared around one of the soldiers "… has clearly broken his neck.  And there remains the impact with whatever they are flung against.  Imagine what the impact would be for someone running at hypersonic speed.  Actually, you won't have to imagine – you'll see in a moment."

"I'm sure it's bad news," Zabrowski replied acidly, "but I don't see how any of this answers my question.  Either answer it or I'm out of here."

The image froze and Batman leaned over the podium and speared the congressman with his coldest, most dangerous glare.

"You will sit there and watch this or I will tie you down.  If you want to leave afterwards, you're free to go but you WILL watch this."

I closed my eyes.  I **knew** I should have given the briefing.

"The force beams," Batman continued as the images started moving again, "are broad – they have to be to catch a speedster like Kid Flash.  That means they also caught a lot of soldiers.  Since even in slow motion he's just a blur across the screen, it would appear that Kid Flash attacked the soldiers and sent them scattering pell-mell.  If some are killed or seriously injured, that just makes it all the better from Luthor's point of view.  When Kid Flash is squashed flat by the force beams, it will be assumed that some soldier got in a lucky shot.  Only it doesn't work out quite that way."

The blur that was Kid Flash suddenly detoured and disappeared from the screen.

"He brushed the front of the force beam and changed direction before it could affect him.  That is incredible reflexes, even for him."  Batman's voice now took on a commanding edge.  "Now watch."

The blur reappeared briefly, disappeared, reappeared, then disappeared again.  Each time he disappeared, one of the soldiers disappeared with him.

"He is grabbing the soldiers off the front of the force beams.  Rescuing them at the risk of his own life.  Any miscalculation and he hits the force beam and…."

Batman left that hanging.  "The seventeen most badly injured he took to the emergency room.  Actually several emergency rooms, once the first one filled up.  All are expected to live, even the man with the broken neck.  More than thirty others, less injured, he deposited in safe locations around the capitol, such as the National Mall.

"Ah, here it comes."  A second blur appeared.  It hit the force beams and….  Batman froze the image.  Oracle had done an extra careful job of enhancing this image, I knew.  Batman spoke into the sudden hush.

"That is Jay Garrick, the original Flash.  He wasn't as lucky – he collided with one of the force beams.  Fortunately, Kid Flash plucked him off the beam before he took the full brunt of it."

Oracle had told me what happened, but it wasn't the same as seeing it.  Jay didn't look 'fortunate'; he looked broken.

"Jay is in critical but stable condition at the Keystone City STAR Labs."

A muted cheer met the news.  Batman continued.

"Kid Flash didn't stop there.  He rescued Hourman, Hawkgirl and Superboy.  He broke his ankle while rescuing Hourman; he wrapped it with a rag and went back.  He broke his shoulder catching Superboy after Superboy was blasted out of the sky.  He would have gone back again even so, but Joan Garrick forbade it."

The screen turned back into a view of Atlantis.  Batman looked Zabrowski in the eye.

"That is what I expect you to trust, Congressman.  I don't give a good goddamn whether you trust me, but I expect you to trust a young boy who would put his life on the line, repeatedly, for people who were shooting at him.  I expect you to trust Gypsy, who saved your lives in an impossible situation at great personal risk.  I expect you to trust Wonder Woman, who put her body between you and soldiers who were trying to kill you.  I expect you to trust Zatanna, who saved people from Luthor's attack until she was totally exhausted, then went out and did it again.

"I expect you to trust Major Disaster, who fought the hardest battle of his life just now when it would have been so easy to give in and destroy people who **do** make fun of him behind his back – and, incidentally, destroy you two as well.

"That's what I expect you to trust."

Zabrowski looked hesitant.  "None of this is proof of anything."

Batman gave him his almost-smile – a teacher who is surprised at what a good study his student turned out to be.

"No, it isn't.  It isn't intended to be.  It is intended to convince you to give us a chance to **obtain** proof.  It is almost midnight in Washington.  That gives us six, maybe seven, hours before Ross reconvenes Congress.  We can get proof in that time, but we need unimpeachable witnesses who can stand before Congress and swear to what we've found.  We need you.  Both of you."

"It sounds dangerous."

"It will be.  But it's dangerous either way.  We recorded this just over an hour ago."

Two news anchors – one male, one female and both looking tired and rumpled – appeared on the screen.

"This just in," said the man.  "The White House has reported that they have recovered the body of Representative Arlen Jackson from beneath the rubble of the Capitol building.  That brings to five the number of members of congress known dead in this heinous attack."

"And Senator Connelly and Representative Zabrowski are still unaccounted for," the woman added.  "The White House spokesman admitted that they had little hope of finding either alive.  They are almost certainly buried in the remains of the House Chamber."

"But, but…." Zabrowski stammered.

"Luthor can't afford any contradictory voices and he couldn't know what Jackson had learned," Batman told him.  "If you choose not to go with us, I suggest you make your return to Washington as public as possible.  It will make it more difficult for Luthor to have you murdered that way."

Zabrowski shook his head, not in negation but incomprehension.

"I don't know what to do," he whispered. 

"I do."  We all turned our attention in surprise to Senator Connelly.  "I know I'm not as smart as you, Piotr, but I do know this: we swore an oath to support and defend the constitution against all enemies, foreign and domestic.  Unless you're sure these people are lying to us, it's our responsibility to investigate and bear witness to what we find."

I understood, now, why Luthor had felt sufficiently threatened by this man to want him dead.  He had the moral authority to rally opposition against Luthor's attempt to stampede Congress.  That was a rare quality in a politician.

Zabrowski looked at Batman.  "What do you plan to do?"

"Luthor's clone factory is the only place we can get the proof we need in time.  That's where we'll go."  He looked around the hall.  "All of us."

"Hey!" interjected Power Girl.  "Some of us have to rescue the people he's captured.  Jakeem, Marvel and the others."

"We can't afford to split our forces.  For every hero we have gathered here, Luthor has taken at least one out of play; either captured, hospitalized or missing."

"All the more reason to go rescue them!"

"No.  First off, we don't know where he's keeping them…."

"Belle Reeve," stated Hourman.  "I'll bet anything it's Belle Reeve."

"Quite possibly," Batman conceded.  "Do you know for sure?  Neither do I and we have only six hours.  It's far more important to get the evidence to stop Luthor.  If we do, they'll be freed automatically.  If we don't, it won't matter how many of us there are.  We'll have lost."

"Who needs Congress?" cried Supergirl.  "We can take Luthor out ourselves!"

"That," said Connelly in a voice that commanded attention, "would be an act of war against the United States."

"Exactly," added Batman.  "It would make Luthor's accusations true."

Supergirl did not reply, but her eyes smoldered.

"There will be two assault teams," Batman continued, "one to draw the defenders' attention and one to insert and protect the people collecting evidence.  Nightwing will lead the diversionary team and I'll lead the insertion team."

The JSAers stirred at Nightwing's name, but everyone who had been involved in the Atlantis incident nodded in agreement.

"Wonder Woman will accompany the congressmen and be responsible for their safety.  Team One will consist of myself and…."

"I'm coming with you," Lois Lane stated loudly.  She had been quietly scribbling away up to this point.  Now she looked up and faced down the Batman's coldest stare.  "The people need to hear this story and you need the power of the press on your side."

"Given your friendship with Superman," Batman retorted, "your objectivity is likely to be questioned."

Lois Lane narrowed her eyes.  "I'm coming with you," she repeated.

Batman scowled.  "Fine.  You can accompany Nightwing's team."

Nightwing, seated in the back between Lian and Changeling, looked up in dismay.  Then he pasted his best smile on his face and shouted, "Sure.  Welcome aboard, Lois."

"Thanks, Nightwing," she called back, never breaking eye contact with Batman, "but I won't be palmed off on the diversion.  I want to be inside seeing what Luthor is up to."

Batman growled menacingly.  Lois was unmoved.

I laughed.  "Enough, Batman.  Lois, you're with Team One."

Lois nodded and leaned back in her seat.

Batman continued to scowl but went on quickly, before anyone else could interrupt.  "Team One will consist of myself, Hourman as second-in-command, Power Girl, Wildcat, the Star-spangled Girl, S.T.R.I.P.E., Elongated Man, Blue Beetle and Jade.  Team Two will consist of Nightwing, Supergirl as second-in-command, Flamebird, Changeling, Steel, Mary Marvel, Jason Blood, Empress and the Ray."

"Me!" yelped Supergirl.  "I don't want to be…."

"Supergirl!" yelped Wildcat.  "What the f…."

"Hey!" cried Supergirl, turning on Wildcat.  "You got a problem with me?  Because…."

Batman's deep baritone drowned out both voices.  "Nightwing, Hourman, Supergirl and Wonder Woman will come with me.  We need to finalize plans.  The rest of you get ready.  We leave in twenty minutes."

He stepped from behind the podium and strode determinedly down the main aisle.  He ignored the cacophony of competing voices.  I followed right behind.  Even so, we were not fast enough to avoid Ralph Dibny, the Elongated Man.  He stretched his legs to reach the center aisle in one step.  I checked and, yes, his nose was twitching, Hades take the man.

"Yes, Ralph," Batman growled, "you can sit in."

As we reached the doors, Nightwing extricated himself from the crowd and joined us.  I heard the soft thump as Supergirl landed behind us, having simply flown over everyone.  Gypsy appeared right in front Batman, staring up into his eyes.

"You said you needed me," she said accusingly, "but I'm not on either team."

Batman's grim half-smile should have warned her to be careful what she asked for.

Batman merely said, "Come."  We left the hall, and the milling crowd, behind.

Author's Notes:  Sorry for the long delay.  I would blame it on the length of this chapter (which did take a couple of weeks to write plus time for beta reading & revisions) but most of the delay was due to other things.  While I am not foolish enough to make any more promises, I will do my best to keep the story on track.  Supergirl is not the one now appearing in Superman/Batman but the one who appeared in 80 issues of her own comic until it was cancelled in 2002.  Whitehorse is featured in any number of issues of Birds of Prey.  Ralph Dibny's nose twitches whenever he 'smells' a mystery.  Daxamites have super powers comparable to Superman's.  The Atlantis incident referred to is, of course, "The Obsidian Age" where Nightwing led the alternate JLA.  Luthor states he patented the Bizarros in the trade paperback, "Bizarro's World".  Anatole appeared in Flash (3rd series) #7, 8 and 12.  Christina Alexandrova appeared in Flash #8 and the trade paperback "Dead Heat".


	12. Departures

Chapter 12: Departures

All characters are the property of DC Comics.  No money is being made on this story and no infringement of copyright is intended.

Eighteen minutes later I shepherded the two congressmen into the hangar.  The transparent walls gave a spectacular view of Atlantis beyond.  Inside were three shuttles, the invisible plane and more than a dozen super heroes.  Lois was interviewing the Ray, who looked flattered.  Blue Beetle was examining one of the shuttles.

"These look like Atlantean design," he announced loudly.

"They are JLA shuttles which Mera has kindly allowed us to store here against an emergency like this," I told him quellingly, pointing at the plaque on the side of the shuttle.  It read: "Javelin 7, property of the JLA."

Beetle looked disbelieving.  "Yeah, riiiight."

I suppressed the urge to slap him upside the head and instead turned away.  I whispered into the microphone, "How are we doing, Oracle?"

"He made the call and, I can tell you, it sure stirred up a hornet's nest.  Every HDC rapid response team in the eastern U.S. is moving.  I'll be able to triangulate in a few minutes.  So everything is 'go' from my side."

My attention was caught by Supergirl's entrance.  We nodded to each other.  Her attitude concerned me; the more so as I had had no opportunity to discuss it with either Batman or Nightwing.  Lost beneath her anger, I knew, was a spirit both brave and true.  I hoped she would find it again when she needed of it.

Oracle interrupted my reverie.  "Places, everyone, he's coming."

My eye caught Supergirl's once more and then we both looked away.

Batman walked through the doorway, nodded very slightly in my direction, and then ducked through the hatchway into the Javelin 7.  I could hear his voice, "Beetle, if you break it, you've bought it."

Then Dawn and Ralph Dibny, the Elongated Man, came through the doorway into the hangar.  Ralph was telling Dawn something and talking with his hands again.  Given the way they could stretch, everyone within twenty feet was backing away.  Batman came back out of the Javelin 7 and the two made straight for him.  Supergirl and I closed in behind them.  I started surreptitiously pulling on the special black gloves Batman had given me.  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Supergirl do the same, but my attention was focused on the pair ahead of us.

"Batman," Ralph called out loudly, "Dawn has something more to tell you."  Every head turned at this.

"I do not think it is important," Dawn started to say as Ralph took a long step towards Batman.  Supergirl and I stepped up on each side of Dawn.  Ralph pulled himself out of the way as we both swiveled and struck Dawn with all our speed and power.

At least, Supergirl did so.  Although my mind knew the truth, my heart could not stop believing this was a friend.  I realized with dismay that I had pulled my punch.  The force of Supergirl's blow knocked Dawn towards me and I could see he was reverting to his true form.  Another second and we would have a battle on our hands that would shatter this tower and rock all of Atlantis.

My mind stopped and my body took over.  I hammered him again and again, not allowing him a split second to recover.  It was not enough; he had almost fully shifted to his true form.  His power rivaled Superman's, I reminded myself as my side kick knocked him into Supergirl's fist.  He was staggered back towards me and we both hit him simultaneously.  He swayed for a moment.

"Haiiiii!"  Power Girl slammed into him, knocking him back into a wall.  Fortunately, it was built to withstand the pressures of the deep and did not shatter.  She grabbed an oversized purple arm and threw him back towards us.  As one, Supergirl and I punched with all of our might and, finally, he crashed to the floor, out cold.

"Thanks," I told Power Girl, breathing hard.

"I thought you two could use a hand," she replied.

"Senator, Congressman," Batman's voice boomed out.  I looked up and saw them in the far corner where Ralph had carried them, as per plan.  They were looking dazed, as well they might.

"You asked for proof," Batman continued in a commanding voice, "I present you with Exhibit A, the Parasite."

"I don't understand," quavered Zabrowski. 

Lois knelt next to the Parasite and looked him over, being careful not to touch him.

'J'onn?'

'I am here, Diana.'  His thoughts were partially formed and chaotic, not at all like his usual controlled self.  It was amazing he could function at all, I thought.  I knew he still couldn't maintain a form.  It had been disturbing to see him reduced to a puddle of green ooze; but it was better than what we had feared.  Scorch's teachings had allowed him to survive the flames long enough to turn intangible and slip into the bedrock beneath the house.  It had taken him hours to reach Atlantis, moving through rock until he came up in the basement of one of the towers.

'Did you get it?'

'Yes.'  I felt pain and a black despair clash, sweeping away conscious thought for a moment.  Then he forced the emotions back down.

'Hourman was right.  Dawn, at least, is being held at Belle Reeve.  The image was clear in the Parasite's brain.  I am sorry I can do no more.'

'You have done enough,' I assured him, but he had already broken the connection.  Major Disaster, I thought, was not the only one fighting for his soul.

The sound of Lois' voice, brought my attention back to the scene before me

"The Parasite," Lois was explaining, "is a super villain who absorbs a person's memories and powers with a touch.  He can also take the form of that person, making him the perfect imposter.  Of course, he also drains your life force with his touch.  That's how he feeds.  And he has to touch you every twenty-four hours to keep up the disguise.  But he's supposed to be dead, killed in a battle with Superman."  She stood and stepped back from the Parasite's body, as Atlantean guards appeared to take him away.  Lois looked inquiringly at the Batman.

"LexCorp took possession of the body," he told her, "and you can see the result.  He has been impersonating Dawn since the Kylaq affair.  He ambushed Major Disaster and handed him over to Luthor.  He sabotaged our communications and blew up the Watchtower.  We intercepted his call just now, revealing our plans.  The HDC has sent rapid response teams to protect Luthor's clone factory."

"Then we've failed," cried Steel, "They'll be waiting for us."

I nodded to Nightwing, who raised his arms for attention.

"Not at all!" shouted Nightwing.  "We've got them right where we want them!"  He stepped up to Batman and saluted.  "Permission to proceed, sir!"

"Go ahead," Batman replied.  More softly he added, "Be careful… son."

"You too, pops," whispered Nightwing.  He turned.  "Change of plans!  We're breaking our friends out of Belle Reeve!  Both teams!"

Everyone cheered except for the two congressmen – who were still trying to puzzle things out – Batman and myself.

"Time to go," I told the congressmen and picked them up and flew towards the invisible plane.  Batman raced after me on foot.

Behind us, Nightwing called out, "Hourman will lead Team One with Power Girl as his second!  Now come on!  Team One in Javelin 6, Team Two in Javelin 7!"

"I don't understand," Zabrowski repeated.  Connelly looked completely out of his depth.

Lois suddenly realized she had been outmaneuvered.  "Hey!" she shouted at us, "I'm going with you!"  She started running after us.

"Too late, Lois," I yelled, "better luck next time!"

We settled into the invisible plane as the last of the super heroes boarded the shuttles.  The great hangar doors started to cycle open and Lois, realizing she couldn't reach the invisible plane in time, turned and dashed for the nearest shuttle.

"I don't understand," Zabrowski said yet again.

"It's actually quite simple, sir," I explained.  "We knew the Parasite was a spy, so we used him to feed Luthor misinformation.  He thinks we're attacking the clone factory, when in fact the other super heroes will be freeing our imprisoned comrades in Belle Reeve."

"But she… he… it, whatever, gave Major Disaster away.  Why do that?"

"Because Luthor realized we would guess he had a spy in our midst.  By sacrificing Major Disaster, he sought to place 'Dawn' above suspicion.  Fortunately, Batman was already suspicious of 'Dawn' and was able to verify his suspicions in time." 

The hangar doors were now fully open and the invisible plane shot out into the brightly lit waters of Atlantis.

"What about all that stuff about the clone factory being the only place to find the evidence.  Was that a lie?" demanded Zabrowski.

"No," answered Batman, "that's why – while the others go after Belle Reeve – we're going after the clone factory."

"Just the four of us?" cried Zabrowski.  "Are you insane?  What am I saying?  You dress up like a bat and go around terrorizing criminals.  Of course you're insane!"

"Calm down, Piotr," advised Connelly.  "They're the experts.  Let's leave the means to them and concentrate on the ends."

"Thank you, sir," Batman replied respectfully.  Well, respectfully for him.  He turned to Zabrowski.  "I lied.  We didn't know where the clone factory is.  So we had to get Luthor to show us.  Which he has done.  HDC shuttles are carrying troops from all over the eastern United States towards the clone factory right now.  All we have to do is follow them."

We were approaching the dome surrounding Atlantis.  Beyond, the waters were midnight black.  A hole started opening just ahead of us.

"How do you know what the HDC is doing?" asked Zabrowski.

"We've tapped into U.S. spy satellites," Batman replied unconcernedly.

"If you're trying to convince me you people aren't dangerous," Zabrowski commented waspishly, "you're not doing a very good job."

"I never said we weren't **dangerous**," Batman answered with a smile that terrorized hardened criminals, "I said we weren't **guilty**."

The invisible plane shot through the opening and into the inky depths beyond.

Author's Note: The Parasite died in the trade paperback "Til Death do us Part".  His new, greater powers first appeared then.  Hope and Mercy appropriated his body in the trade paperback "Critical Condition".  For those of you surprised by this development, I **did** hint at it back in Chapters 1 and 9.  ;-)


	13. Open Sesame

Chapter 13 – Open Sesame

All characters are the property of DC Comics.  No money is being made on this story and no infringement of copyright is intended.

The invisible plane burst out of the water and the inky blackness below the waves was replaced by the starry blackness above.  I glanced at the moon and immediately looked away.  Even at this distance, I could see the blackened scar where the Watchtower had stood.

"Oracle," Batman muttered, "talk to us."

"I've got an approximate fix, someplace in upstate Gotham.  I'll be able to tighten that up as they get closer.  From your point of view, the best target is the shuttle out of Camp Lejeune.  I've sent coordinates directly to the plane," she added as the invisible plane banked and started accelerating.  "You shouldn't have any trouble overtaking them; those shuttles can only do Mach 4."

"Acknowledged."

We had a few minutes until we intercepted the shuttle.  Mindful of our company in the back, I murmured, "I am concerned about Supergirl.  She has so much anger bottled up inside her."

"Yes."  Surprisingly, a corner of Batman's mouth turned up in a smile.  "Nightwing says she reminds him of 'The Angry Young Man'."

"Angry young woman, surely?" I asked in confusion.

"You're not a Billy Joel fan," Batman stated.

"Are you?"

"Nightwing."  Bruce sighed.  "I must have memorized the lyrics to every one of his songs.  Not intentionally, just due to repetition.

"At any rate, he thinks a dose of reality will bring her out of it.  He's putting her in charge of the kids."  He meant the members of Young Justice, I knew.  "He thinks that will force her to think of something besides her anger."  He shrugged, not entirely convinced, but added, "I trust Nightwing's judgment."

I nodded.  "He may well be right."

"By the way, you **can** make the invisible plane turn into any shape you want?"

I nodded, wondering where he was going.

"Even small enough to fit under your finger nail?"

I was taken aback.  "I don't see any reason why not, but…."

"What?"

"Well," I smiled sweetly, "since we have several minutes to pass, I was wondering if you would sing 'Uptown Girl'?"

The look on his face was priceless.  I tried to suppress my laughter, but I doubt he found my muffled guffaws any improvement.  It didn't help that my choking caught the attention of the congressmen.

By the time that was resolved, I suspect Bruce was overjoyed to hear Oracle say:  "You're closing up on the Camp Lejeune shuttle.  Get ready, folks!"

Zabrowski asked, "What are you going to do?"

Batman ignored him.  He turned to me.  "Get the plane as close above the shuttle as possible.  Once I'm aboard, I'll open the hatch and you can ferry the congressmen and the duffle over."

I raised my eyebrows.  "Are you planning to **jump** onto the shuttle?  I can fly, why shouldn't **I** do it?"

"Because we can't leave evidence that anything's amiss."

"Fine," I said, "we **both** can do it."

I grabbed him under the arms and carried us both out of the plane.  A little ahead and several hundred feet below us, I could make out the HDC shuttle.

"Land me on top of the shuttle just behind the wind shield," snarled Batman.  Smiling, I did as he asked.

I heard a 'snick' and metal claws popped out of the fingertips of his left gauntlet.  He dug them into the hull of the shuttle while his right hand rummaged in his utility belt.  He pulled out an electric drill with a diamond tip so small I could barely see it and proceeded to drill a miniscule hole into the hull.  He pulled the drill out, stowed it in his utility belt and pulled out a small gas canister.  He fitted the nozzle of the canister over the minute hole and turned the stopcock.

He turned and smiled grimly.  "Now the hatch…"

Suddenly the shuttle pitched down and went into a power dive.  Only his claws kept Batman from being thrown off.  I was taken by surprise and had to dive after it.

"The idiot must have shut down the autopilot," snarled Batman.  I didn't wait to hear what else he had to say.  Instead, I flew past him and under the nose of the shuttle.  I misjudged its speed and the shuttle nose slammed into my back.  I ignored the pain and lifted.  The strain was terrible and I could not exert my full strength without risking shattering the shuttle's hull.  We were still losing altitude and I could see the ground rushing up to meet us.  I pushed harder and harder, listening for the sound of the hull girders straining towards their breaking point.

We were starting to come out of the dive but the ground was getting dangerously close.  I pushed harder still.  The strain was incredible and the hull girders started groaning, warning me they could not take much more of this.  Finally we leveled off, with perhaps two hundred feet to spare.  Not even close, I thought, by JLA standards.  I had to maintain the pressure, as the shuttle still wanted to immolate itself against the ground.

Then suddenly the pressure disappeared and we started climbing again.  I let go and flew around the shuttle.  I spotted an open hatch on the side of the shuttle and flew in.  In the main section, a score of HDC soldiers sat in their seats, unconscious but held in place by their seat belts.  Forward, I saw the copilot slumped over in his seat, the pilot in a heap on the deck next to him.  In the pilot's seat sat the Batman, steering with one hand while the other pulled something out of his utility belt.

"… say again, Bravo One-niner, what happened?  You disappeared off the radar for almost a minute there."

Batman replied with a reedy voice and a definite twang, "Fox Base, this is Bravo One-Niner.  We had a temporary problem with the autopilot.  All fixed now."

He pulled out a hypo spray and pressed it to the neck of the copilot while saying, in the same voice, just loud enough to be heard over the radio,  "Do anything that stupid again and I promise you, you'll be up on charges.  You understand me, soldier?"

Louder, he continued,  "Everything's fine now."  The copilot started to stir.

The voice on the radio sounded suspicious now.  "Bravo One-niner, I need a security check.  Delta-Tango-Charlie-eight-Echo."

Batman jerked his head towards the now awakening copilot.  I pulled out my lasso and dropped a loop over him.

"Well, if you insist, Fox Base.  Just a moment."  Batman turned to look at me.  I whispered in the copilot's ear, then quietly repeated what he told me.

More loudly, Batman repeated, "Alpha-Romeo-seven-two-Hotel."

A moment of silence, then, "That is correct, Bravo One-niner.  Your ETA is eleven minutes."

"Roger, Fox Base.  Bravo One-niner out."

In his own voice, Batman hissed, "Get the congressmen and the duffle, now!"

By the time I returned with all three objects, the pilot was gone and Batman was dragging the once-more-unconscious copilot towards the back of the shuttle.

Batman grabbed the duffle.  "Your plane?" he demanded.  I held up one thumb, indicating that the invisible plane was safely stowed under the thumbnail.

Batman grunted.  "Secure the soldiers and their equipment in the cargo hold."

I picked up a couple of soldiers and headed for the back of the shuttle.  Behind me, I could hear Batman talking to the congressmen.

"Senator, you've served in the Reserves, so you'll be my aide.  Here's a clipboard.  Make appropriate scribbles when I tell you to.  You're a first lieutenant.  Congressman, you're a private.  All you have to do is looked bored and speak only when spoken to, ending every sentence with 'sir' or – if they have stripes on their sleeve – 'sergeant'."

By the time I had the soldiers comfortably stowed in the cargo hold, the two congressmen had donned their uniforms and looked (more or less) their parts.  Batman was fiddling with something that looked like a high-tech suit of armor.  He glanced up.

"You'll need help with this power suit."  He handed me the suit and led me into the pilot's compartment, the duffle over his shoulder.  He closed the door behind us.

I stripped out of my uniform.  Batman shot me a short intense look, then pulled panties and a sports bra out of the duffle.  I put them on and he helped me climb into the power suit.  It was bulky, covering the entire torso, with rods and pulleys extending down the limbs and ending in heavy metal gauntlets and boots.  It was also clearly designed for a man.

"I tried to make a little extra room for you," Batman told me, sounding almost apologetic.  I could see that he had removed some components, but it was still extremely tight and painful.

"Mind if I make a little more room?" I asked.

"Be my guest."

I reached inside, snapped off a flange that had been cutting deeply into my right breast and, with a steady pressure, flattened a sharp corner.

"Better."

The rods and pulleys needed adjustment to fit my limbs.  As he was dealing with that, Batman explained, "With the suit, a man can punch through a concrete wall.  It also protects the torso from conventional gunfire."

"I can already punch through a concrete wall," I reminded him.

"Which is why we can get rid of all this," he said, opening up a panel in the front of the suit and ripping out wiring and components.  He quickly reconnected two loose wires and then took off his utility belt and stuffed it inside.  My bracelets and lasso followed, along with two pairs of black gloves.

"Good," he grunted.  He tossed me a uniform with sergeant's stripes on the sleeves, followed by gloves and oversized boots.

"I don't want the suit showing.  It's our secret weapon."

Since I doubted it still worked and I didn't need it in the first place, I wasn't sure how this could be but nodded anyway.

"This will bleach your hair."  He tossed me a bottle.  "Use it before you put the uniform on, it'll eat right through the fabric."  He added, "You might not want to get it on your skin, either."

I smiled at this afterthought.  "My skin is tough," I assured him.

"You've got four minutes."

By the time I got out, Batman had completed his own transformation.  He had gained forty pounds, all in an impressive beer belly, and his hair was reduced to a gray fringe surrounding a shiny pate.  There were age spots on his skin.  He wore the single star of a brigadier general on his collar.

He looked me over.  "It'll have to do," he told me and handed me a package of gum.  "Take a piece."

I took a piece of gum and popped it into my mouth.  I started chewing.  He put the package in my pocket.

"It's bubble gum," he told me.  "You know how to blow bubbles?"

I thought back to a happier time, when Vanessa Kapatellis showed me how to blow bubbles, and nodded.

"If anyone looks at you, blow a bubble."

There was a distinct 'thunk' as the shuttle, controlled by the autopilot, landed.  Batman ignored it.  "Turn around."

I turned around and he pulled my hair back into a ponytail.  He used a couple of rubber bands to hold my hair in place.  At the same time, he spoke to the two congressmen.

"At some point, we'll probably have guns pointed at us.  Just stay calm and don't forget your role."

Zabrowski looked frankly terrified; even Connelly started to look worried.

"Don't worry," I told them, "we won't let anybody shoot you."

"We need you as witnesses," Batman added.

The two congressmen did not look comforted.

There was a banging on the hatch.

"Showtime," Batman muttered.  He looked at the two Congressmen, "Remember your roles.  If in doubt, say nothing and leave it to me."

He glanced at me.  "Chew."  I started chewing again.

Batman pulled a document out of his pocket and hit the button next to the hatch.

The hatch opened and a young man with a clipboard and the two stripes of a corporal entered.  He looked at Batman and stopped.  He looked around.  His gaze fixed on me for a moment.  Remembering my instructions, I blew a bubble.  It popped loudly, snapping him out of his momentary paralysis.

"You're not second platoon, Charlie Company," he stuttered.

Batman stared down his nose at him.  "**I** am General Douglas Peabody of the Inspector General's office.  **This**," he waved the document in front of the young man, "is an order signed by the Inspector General himself, ordering me to me to conduct a surprise inspection of this facility.  I am now ordering **you** to take me directly to the commanding officer of this facility without informing anyone that a surprise inspection is in progress."

The young man looked stunned.  "But, but…."

"What part of that simple order," Batman demanded, "did you not understand?"

The corporal snapped to attention and saluted.  "Yes **sir**!"  Then he hesitated.  "I'll have to take you through the security screening, sir.  Everyone has to be screened."

"Of course," replied Batman majestically.  "Security is one of the things I am here to inspect."

The young man nodded and turned around.  We followed him out of the shuttle.

"Open Sesame," I murmured softly.  Batman looked at me and an eyelid quivered in an almost wink.

Ali Baba, I recalled, had found getting in far easier than getting back out again.


	14. Blowing Bubbles

Chapter 14: Blowing Bubbles

All characters are the property of DC Comics.  No money is being made on this story and no infringement of copyright is intended.

We followed the young soldier out of the shuttle.  It was hard to tell in the dark, but we seemed to have landed in a wooded glen.  It would have been quite charming if not for the heavily armed soldiers, tanks and heavy weapons all around us.  I caught glimpses of other shuttles among the trees and heard a quiet humming noise above me that I recognized.  I looked up and saw a squad of soldiers fly past, their armored suits not quite identical to the Team Lex goons I had fought in Metropolis.  No doubt Luthor had licensed the technology to the HDC.

We were challenged every twenty yards or so by a patrol of heavily armed and nervous soldiers.  We were careful not to do anything they might interpret as hostile and left it to the poor, sweating corporal to explain our presence.  As a result, it took us several minutes to cover the hundred or so yards to the first guard post.  It was built out of concrete and looked able to stand up to heavy cannon fire.  It guarded a gap in a pair of high wire fences topped with barbed wire.  A well-lit sign stated: "Warning: Electrified".  Between and connecting the two fences I could see a web of trip wires.  I wondered what sort of booby traps they were attached to.

The corporal saw the direction of my gaze.  "They're not really electrified," he assured me, "that's just – whatchacallit -- misdirection.  That's actually a sensor web connected to computer-controlled force beams.  Anyone touches the fence or sets foot in there and whammo!  I don't care if they're metas or not, they're clobbered."

He stopped and glanced guiltily at Batman.

"What if they're one of those super fast metas?" asked Batman as if curious.

Encouraged, the young man continued.  "The sensor web tracks 'em and takes 'em out in the next defense zone.  You don't want to be anywhere near there when it happens, though.  Broad angle force beams – to make sure they hit 'em, you know? – will knock you clear into next week.  You'll be lucky if all it does is knock you out."

The congressmen glanced at each other, but Batman just asked, "What about flying metas?"

"We got radar-controlled plasma cannon for that," confided the corporal.  Realizing who he was talking to, he added, "uh, sir."

We had reached the concrete guardhouse.  Beyond the fence, I could make out camouflaged gun positions covering us.  More obviously, just inside the inner fence, a hover tank was parked almost blocking the gap in the fences.

I realized I had stopped chewing and guiltily started once more, ready to blow another bubble.  I looked at the guard post and realized I could see no guard, nor any place for one; the guardhouse was a solid block of concrete except for what could almost have been an ATM.

The corporal walked up to it, took off his ID card, stuck it in a slot in the 'ATM' and put his hand palm-down on a pad.  A thin red beam shot out and scanned him from head to toe.  Once it was over, he retrieved his ID card and turned to us, grinning.

"Real fancy, huh?  It checks your retinal print, finger prints and face against the information encoded on your ID card and both against the HDC central data base.  If anything doesn't match, well, I wouldn't want to be you."

The two congressmen looked nervous, but I had more trust in Batman's – and Oracle's – abilities.  I stepped forward, only sparing Batman a glance when the corporal added, "It checks for metas too.  No shape-shifter is going to get by this system!"

Batman looked unconcerned, so I knew he had this aspect covered as well.  Perhaps it was that, strictly speaking, I was not a metahuman:  my powers were magical in nature and not due to the metagene.

As I put my ID card in the slot and placed my palm on the scanner, the corporal continued, "Alien, mutant, magic, it doesn't matter.  This baby will catch'em all."  He looked at Batman and, once more, added, "Sir."

The beam shot out and I stood still to let it do its job.  No alarm went off; nothing happened.  I retrieved my ID card as Batman said, "Sounds like a good system."

"Yes, sir!"

Batman went next.  Senator Connelly followed him and Zabrowski, sweating but game, followed him.  No alarms, nothing to indicate anything amiss.  We squeezed past the tank and went on.

There were, if anything, even more troops, tanks and tension on this side of the fence.  However, now we had a straight, well-lit path to follow and no one bothered us.  A hundred yards ahead, I could see the next check point.  There were no fences this time.  Instead, the brightly lit signs stated: "Beware, Minefield!"  Beyond the signs, flood lights lit the ground for about twenty yards.

"It really a minefield?" Batman asked.

"Yes, sir, but there's other things as well.  Those broad angle force beams I told you about.  As long as you aren't in the lit up area, they shouldn't kill you," he sounded a bit doubtful, "but you won't be waking up for a few hours.

"But if you should happen to be going through this checkpoint when they go off," he shrugged.

The corporal and both congressmen looked worried now.  We hurried through the checkpoint.  A hundred yards ahead, the path dove into a cut in the ground, ending at a pair of huge metal doors – evidently the entrance to an underground bunker.

"That it, corporal?" asked Batman.

"Yes, sir.  Just the one last checkpoint, then I can take you to the Colonel."

"Very good."

We followed the soldier down into the cut.  On one side, just before the doors, was another 'ATM'.  We went through the procedure one more time and, prompted by a computerized voice, Batman held up his 'orders' to be scanned.  They apparently passed muster, as the large metal doors started opening.

It took them some little time and we all got a clear view of how thick they were.  The blast doors at NORAD headquarters in Colorado Springs, built to withstand a nuclear blast, could hardly have been thicker.  I thought that even Kal would need some time to smash through them.  We passed through, into a brightly lit vestibule ten yards on a side.  At the far end were another set of blast doors, but what caught my attention were much smaller, normally sized doors in the walls on either side of us.

They caught my attention because, as soon as the blast doors behind us had closed, heavily armed soldiers poured through both doors, their weapons aimed at us.  We froze and Batman waited until were in place surrounding us and had a moment to calm down before shouting, "What is the meaning of this!"

I noticed several of the soldiers had their guns aimed carefully and unwavering at my head.  I smiled at them and blew a bubble.

"I am General Douglas Peabody of the Inspector General's office," bellowed Batman, "and I demand to see your commanding officer."

"Sure you are," mocked a harsh voice.  A short bandy-legged officer with Colonel's eagles on his collar came out from behind the soldiers.  His belly was not as impressive as the 'General's', but he was working on it.  He held a long sharp knife in his left hand.

"Well, you're in luck," he continued.  "I am the commanding officer and I say you're a bunch of liars and traitors and spies for the damned metas."  He tossed the knife in the air and caught it, negligently, in his right hand.  I noticed that, for all his seeming nonchalance, he was carefully staying out of the line of fire.

"Colonel," the corporal interjected hesitantly, "I saw his orders.  They …"

"Shut up!" roared the Colonel.  "So far I've given you the benefit of the doubt: I assumed you're not a traitor, just stupid.  Don't make me change my mind!"

The corporal shut up.

"I'd shoot you right now," continued the Colonel in a softer voice, "except that nancy pants Ross would have a cow.  Tomorrow, after Congress has passed the Special Powers Act, I may shoot you anyway.  The bleeding heart lawyers won't be able to bleat about your 'civil rights' after tomorrow.  We'll be able to set a lot of things right, after tomorrow."

"Ross will still be President," Batman replied calmly.  "I doubt his orders will change."

"Will he?"  The Colonel walked around behind me, still handling his knife.  "Maybe he will and maybe he won't."

Suddenly, my bubble popped, taking even me by surprise.  I had allowed it to get too large and it popped with a crack like a rifle shot.  Everyone tensed and for a moment I thought I would have to leap into action.  But no one fired and, after a moment, everyone relaxed again.  One soldier laughed, out of relief rather than humor.

The Colonel shot the man a look and the laughter cut off.  The Colonel turned to Batman.  "Good God, man, I know she's a looker, but couldn't you find someone less brain-dead?"

Batman cackled.  "When you get to my age, about all you can do is look!"  He grinned at the Colonel.  "Besides, you tell your boys to put away their guns and you'll see what she can do."

"Oh, that," replied the Colonel dismissively.  He had stepped behind me and I felt him slice the back of my blouse cleanly in two.  The two sides parted, revealing the power suit beneath.  The Colonel yanked something from the back of the suit.

"Without its power module," he told Batman, "that power suit is just so much dead weight.  I'd like to see her take on anybody now."

Batman looked taken aback.

"Did you think you could sneak one of our own power suits past the scanners?" mocked the Colonel.  "We were on to you after the first check point.  I thought she was a meta at first, but the techs figured out the signal was really from the suit's power pack.  Too bad.  I could have shot a meta out of hand.  But you're worse than metas, you're traitors to your species."

"Metas are human too," I told him quietly.

"Shut up!"  He backhanded me and I had to lean away from it to keep from bruising his hand.

Batman blew out his breath.  Only because I was looking for it, I noticed the miniscule blue and red speck fly out of his mouth.  "So what are you going to do with us?"

The Colonel smiled.  He thought he looked threatening, but not to someone who had seen the Batman do it.

"Colonel!"  Another officer, wearing a headset and the double bars of a captain, stepped out from behind the soldiers.  "Metas are attacking Belle Reeve!  New orders.  We are to send all the rapid response teams to help immediately."

"What!"  The Colonel turned back to Batman, his jaw working.  "Decoys," he hissed.  "You were just decoys!"

He whirled about.  "Lock them up someplace," he ordered as he stomped off.  "Come on!"

The captain looked around.  "Sergeant, take your squad and escort them to Secure Room 3.  The rest of you, come with me."  He and three-quarters of the soldiers followed the Colonel out of the vestibule.

The remaining soldiers closed in around us.  The corporal who had led us looked around uncertainly.

"Corporal," the sergeant told him, "you'd best get back to your duty post."

"Yes, sergeant."  He scurried away.

"Please come with us," the sergeant told Batman.  He was a big black man with grizzled hair.  He looked like he had seen a lot in his time, and not liked most of it.  The state of his fatigues said he had had a long, probably hard, day.

"You realize," Batman told him, "that this arrest is illegal and will result in criminal charges against the Colonel and anyone who follows his illegal orders?"

"Yes, sir, I got that impression.  On the other hand, I just got a direct order from my superior officer, who will bring me up on charges if I don't obey it.  So I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't.  I hope you'll pardon me, sir, if I do what will keep me out of the brig right **now**."

"As long as you understand, this is under duress," Batman responded.

"I did pick up on that, sir.  Now, if you'll come with us."

The sergeant was taking no chances with us.  He opened the big inner doors and his men kept out of reach, with their weapons ready.  I blew another bubble, being sure to pop it before it got too large.

The route to Secure Room 3 was long and circuitous; I memorized it anyway, just in case.  We went in silence; evidently both Batman and the sergeant felt they had said everything they wanted to say.  The sergeant did nod to us, once he had us settled in Secure Room 3; I felt he was thinking that he might be the one being locked up next time and wasn't too happy at the thought.

The door, I noticed as I entered, was more than a foot thick and looked to be high-tensile-strength steel.  I wondered who or what they normally kept secure in this room.

The door slammed shut with a very final 'clang'.  I looked about the room.  It was an empty cube about twenty feet on a side; the walls, floor and ceiling – all painted white – seemed to melt into each other.  The lighting came from ceiling panels.  I suspected that Plexiglas at least as thick as the door separated the white lights from the white room.  Other than that, the only things I could see were two video cameras, in opposite corners of the ceiling to ensure every bit of the room was covered, and an air vent near the ceiling.

Batman sat down and leaned back against a corner of the room, directly under one of the cameras.  I sat down next to him.  The congressmen were standing, looking uncertain.

"What now?" I asked.

"Got any more of that gum?"

I pulled out the package, broke off a piece and handed it to him.  He popped it into his mouth and started chewing.  A moment later, he blew a bubble.

The "pop" of his bubble bursting caused the congressmen to jump.  They turned to look at us.

"Say," drawled Batman, "you ever hear the one about the lawyer, the architect, the doctor and the politician?"


	15. If I were a snake

Chapter 15 – If I were a snake …

All characters are the property of DC Comics.  No money is being made on this story and no infringement of copyright is intended.

" '… I thought **you** had'."

That one actually got a chuckle out of Zabrowski.  Whether Batman had intended it or not, our swapping jokes had relaxed the two congressmen.  They were not longer expecting to die at any minute.  Good.  Tense people made mistakes and shortly there would be little margin for mistakes.

"You delivery isn't bad," I told Batman judiciously, somewhat distracted by the way he was playing with my pony tail, "but your material is dated."

He stretched.  "Well, soldiers don't like to tell jokes to generals, for some reason.  I only get them from the other generals, and since no one tells them jokes either …"

He reached back and tugged gently at my ponytail again.  I turned to look at him.  He smiled and tugged again.  I realized he was pulling off one of the rubber bands.

"If I take out the camera across the room," he whispered so softly I had to strain to hear, "can you disable the one above us without being seen by it?"

I nodded very slightly.

He grunted.  He pulled his hand away from my hair and spat his gum into his other hand.  He grinned at the two congressmen, who had not heard him and were looking puzzled by the silence.

"Well…" he drawled and opened his hand.  The rubber band was stretched between his thumb and forefinger.  He pulled the band back with his other hand and released it.  With a snap, his wad of gum flew across the room and landed on the lens of the camera, obscuring it.

Not to be out done, I spat my gum into my palm and, with a flick of my thumb sent it arcing up over my head.  Batman looked up and shook his head.

"Show off," he muttered, ripping open his uniform shirt.  I grinned at him.

 With his beer belly now exposed, he took a careful grip of one corner and pulled back the artificial skin.  Underneath was a soft putty-like substance.  He pulled off a piece and rolled it into a ball the size of a golf ball.  He tossed it to me.

"Rip off the grill," he told me, "and toss that as straight and as far down the shaft as you can.  Then duck."

I nodded, flew up and grabbed the grill.  It was far stronger than I had expected.  I stuck the ball into a pocket, grabbed the grill with both hands and pulled with all my might, bracing my feet against the wall.  With a screeching, tearing sound, the grill finally came loose.  I tossed it to the floor, took aim and threw.

I dropped to the floor as a 'blam!' came out of the vent, followed by a tongue of flame and debris.  I covered the congressmen with my body.  One or two pieces of shrapnel bounced off my armored back.

"The plane, Diana," grated Batman, carefully putting his skin back together.

I nodded.  His plan was obvious now.  I popped the plane from out from under my thumbnail and enlarged it.  A triangular cross-section, I thought, to fit into a corner.  The high ceilings helped, we could stack two high with the congressmen on the bottom.  For the moment, I left the side facing into the room open.

"Into the corner, please," I told the congressmen, who obediently stepped into the corner, clearly not understanding what was going on.  I caught Batman under his arms and lifted him above them.  Then I willed the plane to close around us.  Connelly cried out as the invisible hull of the plane pushed them further into the corner.

"No one can see you while you are inside the invisible plane," I told them, "but they can hear you.  So please be quiet.  All our lives depend upon it."

They looked up at me and nodded.

However, I couldn't resist a question.  "Forty pounds of plastic explosive?" I whispered to Batman.

"Never know when it might come in handy," was his off-hand reply.  "The artificial skin is impermeable," he added very quietly, "so the chemical odor is undetectable."

 That golf ball had been about half a pound, I judged.  I pondered what he might achieve with forty pounds.

There was a loud 'clang!' and the cell door opened ponderously.  As soon as the gap was wide enough, soldiers poured in, weapons at the ready.  They swept every corner of the room with their guns.

"No one's here!" one shouted.

"No wonder," cried another, who had looked up.  "Look at the grill!"

The lieutenant we had seen earlier entered, still wearing his headset.  He swept the room with his gaze and then checked out the grill.  "That's affirmative, colonel.  They're gone.  Someone ripped the grill out of the wall.  They must have escaped through the ventilation ducts and then blown their way out."

He paused, then said, "Sir, I don't know how they got that power suit working again."

The soldiers, except for a few with their attention and guns focused on the air vent, had relaxed their guard.  One leaned back against the invisible plane.  I tensed.  Surely he noticed that his back was more than a foot from the wall and the angle was all wrong?

I quickly plotted my strategy.  I would open the top part of the invisible plane and toss Batman towards the soldiers in the far corner then dive into the midst of the soldiers in the center, knocking out the leaning soldier as I passed.  I estimated that we could take out half the soldiers before they could react.  Then….  I wondered if the plasma blasts would ricochet off the walls.  I would have to thicken the lower half of the invisible plane to protect the congressmen.

Amazingly, the man noticed nothing amiss.  If anyone looked his way, however, they were bound to realize something was wrong and the Batman's carefully plotted misdirection would be for nothing.  We could defeat these soldiers, I was sure, but that would bring more down upon us.

I glanced down at the soldier.  His head was just inches from the toe of my boot.  I thought of the saying I had heard Helena Sandsmark tell Cassie: 'if it were a snake, it would have bit you.'

If I were a snake, I thought, I would… what?  To say I would bite him seemed inappropriate, since he was not near my teeth.  I could kick him.  All it would take was opening a small hole in the invisible plane….

I reined in that thought hastily.  The invisible plane was controlled by my mind and a stray thought might be interpreted as a command.  In any case, having a snake kick someone was an atrocious mixing of metaphors.

"All right," snapped the lieutenant, "let's go.  Chin, you take your squad and search the mess hall and the adjoining offices.  Snyder, you take your squad back to the production area.  Move, people!"

The soldier below us came erect and headed for the door.  So did the others.  No one looked back.  As soon as the last soldier was out, the door began closing again.

I opened the invisible plane, tossed Batman out and flew towards the door.  I heard Batman land on his feet but I had no attention to spare as I grabbed the edge of the vault-like door and tried to hold it open.  The force of it pushed me back until I could brace my feet against the doorframe.  Then I could stop it but the drone of the motor grew louder and louder.  I was afraid the soldiers would hear.

Then Batman slipped under my outstretched arms, stood and slapped a button on the outside wall near the door.  Immediately, the pressure eased and the door started opening again.

I wiped the sweat from my brow.  Batman stepped back inside the room, grabbed my blouse and pulled.  Since it had been sliced down the back, the blouse came off with little resistance.  He stepped closer, hit some buttons, and a panel dropped open in the front of the power suit I was wearing.  He pulled out my golden lasso and bracelets and handed them to me.  Then he pulled out his utility belt and snapped it on.  The last to come out were two pairs of black gloves.

As we were putting these on, I asked, "What if they had forced me to take the armor off?"

"I built a screamer circuit into the armor.  Too high pitched for anyone but you, and dogs, to hear.  It would guide us to it.  Should be going off any minute.  I'll turn it off."

"Don't bother."  I flexed my muscles and with a loud "snap" the power suit broke into several pieces and fell off my body.  I ground the pieces beneath my boots.

Batman handed me back my blouse.  "Pull the sleeves down over your bracelets," he commanded, "and keep your lasso hidden until you need it.  We don't want them to know who they're dealing with until it's absolutely necessary."

The blouse inhibited my freedom of movement, somewhat, but not nearly as much as the power suit.  I put it back on and tied the ends of the back together.  I turned and saw the two congressmen still huddled in the corner.  I handed them out, then shrunk the invisible plane and stowed it in a pocket.  Finding the package of gum, I offered a piece to the congressmen.  After a moment's hesitation, both took some and started chewing.

I turned to Batman and saw he had peeled off his beer belly and tied the ends of the artificial skin together to make a handle of sorts.  He carried it negligently in his left hand.  I wondered, if he accidentally dropped it, whether it would go off.  Without the beer belly, the shirt was too big for him and fell down over his utility belt, effectively hiding it.

"Time to go," he told us.

I nodded and we turned towards the door.

We were not alone.  A diminutive figure in a blue and red uniform stood in the doorway, arms crossed.

"You're late," complained the Atom.

Author's Note: Diana does not have super hearing, per se, but she has demonstrated in many comics that her senses are unusually keen.  I am assuming means her range of hearing is greater than an ordinary human.


	16. Straight Answers

Chapter 16:  Straight Answers

All characters are the property of DC Comics.  No money is being made on this story and no infringement of copyright is intended.

Batman glared at him.  "I said we'd give you forty-five minutes."

"And it's been," the Atom made a production of looking at his watch, "forty-seven minutes, thirty-nine seconds."  His face split into a grin.  "Come on, I've got a lot to show you."

He jumped up and landed lightly on Batman's shoulder.

"The first thing we need to do is find the Colonel," Batman stated.  "To get," he glanced at me, "some straight answers."

The Atom nodded.  "I found his office, among other things."

"Which way?" asked Batman, as he strode out of the door.  I motioned to the two congressmen to follow him.

"To the right," the Atom told him and he turned right, setting a pace the congressmen were hard put to match.  I considered picking them up and carrying them, but decided against it.

"They're not just making a few Luthor clones here," continued the Atom.  "This is where they produced the Bizarro.  Actually, it looks like they produced a number of them."

He stopped, perhaps as chilled by that announcement as I was.

"That doesn't fit," Batman replied.  "That room they kept us in was strongly built, but not strong enough to hold a Bizarro."

"Ah, that's because they're making other sorts of clones, as well.  In particular, they're mass producing…"

We rounded a corner.  Twenty yards ahead the corridor ended in a t-intersection.  From the right hand side of the intersection, two large purple figures entered the corridor.

Batman stopped short at the sight of two Parasites.

"… uh, those," The Atom finished up.

The Colonel came into view behind the two Parasites, followed by two more of the purple brutes.

"Ah ha!" cried the Colonel.  "I thought you'd be coming this way.  Wanted to see what we're making here, did you?  Well, let me show you.  These fellows may not have all the powers the original, but they're more than enough to deal with you."  He motioned the Parasites forward.  I noticed he held something that looked like an oversized calculator or a PDA in his left hand.

I stepped forward, ready to engage the Parasites.

"No!" shouted Batman.  "I'll distract them.  You get the Colonel."  He charged forward along the opposite side of the corridor from me, swinging his forty-pound pack over his head.  The Parasites turned their attention towards him.

I pulled out my lasso and snapped it out towards the Colonel.  The loop fell over him just as the Batman released his pack in a high arc over the heads of the Parasites.  I yanked and the Colonel came flying back to me as the Batman skidded to a halt and dove back towards us.

"Down!" I shouted and the congressmen dropped to the floor.  I caught the Colonel and tossed him behind me as forty pounds of plastic explosive hit the wall behind the creatures.

The explosion was deafening in the confines of the corridor.  The next second was very busy as I deflected shards of concrete with my bracelets.  Then it was over.  I looked at the four Parasites.  The ones nearest the wall had been blown forward into the other pair.  All four were sprawled on the floor, momentarily stunned.

The Atom suddenly reappeared in front of me.  I guessed he had shrunk down to microscopic size to escape the shockwave and debris.  He glanced at the device still clutched in the Colonel's left hand, which must control the Parasites.

"I can take out the Parasites – all the Parasites – but it may take a minute.  Can you keep them away that long?"

I nodded.  "Go."

He jumped, shrinking out of sight as he landed on the controller.  I stepped up next to Batman, who had picked himself up.

So had the first of the Parasites, with the others close behind.  Batman ran towards the monster and sprang up.  His hands came down on top of the Parasite's head and pushed, carrying him past.  Then, as I ran forward, he kicked out, catching the brute between the shoulder blades and causing it to stumble.

I converted the creature's forward momentum to rearward with my fist.  It crashed into the one behind it and both smacked into what was left of the wall behind them.  Batman, meanwhile, had used his kick to carry him straight at a third Parasite.  It swung at him, but too slowly.  With his left hand, Batman slapped the monster's circular, needle-toothed mouth, while the right grabbed its shoulder.  He flipped himself over the brute, hit the fourth Parasite's head feet first and kicked off.

The third creature started coughing as fumes poured from his mouth.  I wondered what Batman had slapped into its mouth – tear gas pellets, perhaps.  Using his momentum to carry him back, Batman had planted his hands on the third Parasite's shoulders and flipped himself over it, landing on his feet facing the monster.

The fourth Parasite, blocked from advancing by its still coughing brethren, looked confused.  However the other two were getting to their feet.  We stood side by side, ready for them.

Suddenly, all four howled in pain and, clutching their heads, staggered and fell to the ground.  I turned around and saw the Atom reappear atop the controller.  He grinned and gave me the high sign.

We ran back to him.

"I crossed a few wires," he told us jauntily.  "Until they can change frequencies or reprogram the Mad Hatter's mind control chips, all the Parasites have white noise pounding into their brains."

"The explosion will attract attention.  We need someplace quiet where we can get some answers out of him," Batman replied with a glance at the Colonel.

The Atom nodded.  "I know a place."  He jumped up to stand on Batman's shoulder.

I turned to see the two congressmen getting to their feet, still looking a little stunned at what had just happened.

"We need to go," I told them.  They nodded and hurried to follow the Batman.  I tossed the Colonel, still wrapped in my golden lasso, over my shoulder and strode after them.

I caught up with them at the t-intersection.  They had stopped and were gawking at what lay on the far side of the hole in the wall.  I stepped up next to them and gawked as well.

The room on the other side measured at least a hundred feet on a side and extended down several stories.  It was lined on three sides by dozens of tall fluid-filled tubes containing Parasites in every stage from mere embryos to fully-grown.  The center of the room was filled with control panels, computers, broad tables on which fully-grown Parasites lay, and scientists in lab coats.  Some had apparently been checking over Parasites recently released from tubes, others may have been installing mind-control chips in them.

They weren't doing either now, for every Parasite not in a tube was writhing in agony.  Most were on the floor but some were in stalls that lined the fourth wall, holding onto heavy rods that came out of the wall as if they couldn't let go.  There was the stench of ozone in the air and the rods cracked with electricity.  Heavy-duty power cables led from each stall to one corner of the room.

They were feeding, I realized.  The original Parasite fed off the life energy of others.  Luthor had somehow found a way to feed these creatures on electricity instead.  Far more practical, a part of my mind concluded; easier to obtain and no bodies to dispose of.  But the rest of my mind was trapped by the image of the creatures writhing in pain and, with the white noise overwhelming their minds, unable to let go of the rods.

They seemed to be growing larger by the second as the energy poured into their bodies.  One suddenly exploded, showering the room with purple gore.  It was a horrible way for even monsters such as these to die.

A batarang flew past me to lodge in the corner of the room from which the power cables emanated.  A second later it exploded.  The lights went out in the room, but I could see the Parasites slump, like marionettes whose strings had been cut.

"Floor show's over," growled Batman, "time to go."

"That way!" the Atom told him, pointing in the direction the Parasite came from. 

The others turned away as soldiers suddenly poured into the room below.  I shoved Connelly out of the way as a plasma blast shot out through the hole in the wall.

"Boys!" cried the Colonel on my shoulder.  "They're heading north along the corridor!"  I reached up and grabbed his shoulder, finding and pinching the nerve.  His body went limp.

"**Move**," hissed Batman.  He took off down the corridor at a run, the Atom on his shoulder.  The two congressmen tried to keep up, but they were huffing and puffing after a few yards.  I took a moment to tie the Colonel securely across my shoulders and then grabbed the congressmen by the scruff of their necks and flew after Batman.  We turned right at the next corridor, then right again at the first opportunity.

"In here," called the Atom.  Batman started to pry off the control panel while I carried the congressmen into … Secure Room 3.  I could see the gum still stuck to the lenses of the video cameras.

I set the congressmen down.  They looked around.  I could tell by their postures, the moment they realized where they were.

Batman entered, with the Atom still on his shoulder, as the door swung shut and locked with a 'clang'.

"I figured," explained the Atom, "that this was the last place they would think to look for us."

"Good thinking," grunted Batman.  "I short circuited the door mechanism.  If they try to open it, the spark will detonate a few ounces of plastic explosive I put in there.  They'll have to break through that door to get to us."

"But how will we get out again?" wondered Connelly.  Batman didn't answer, although I thought I knew.

"Let's leave that to them," I told the Senator, "while we get some answers."

I set the Colonel down on the floor.  He smirked up at me.

"You really think I'm going to tell you anything?"

"What is your full name, rank and position?" I asked.

"Colonel John Rodger Artenberger of the Human Defense Corps.  I am in command of this facility."

Zabrowski hissed.  He obviously recognized the name, most likely from his hearings on the LexCorp bribery scandal.

Artenberger gaped.  "I didn't … how did you … what did you do to me?"

"My golden lasso commands the absolute truth from anyone entangled in it," I told him.

"That … that's not fair," he wailed.

"What is the purpose of this facility?"

"We produce clones."  Artenberger stopped, gritting his teeth and obviously trying to keep from blurting anything more out.

"Be more specific," I commanded.  "How many clones and of who?"

"Thirty-two Parasite clones, nine Bizarros, six Luthor clones and a hybrid."  Artenberger bit his tongue, but it didn't help.  "The hybrid wasn't a success, so we didn't make any more.  The Bizarros are the most difficult.  The kryptonian DNA is very hard to work with."

"Stop.  Tell us about the Luthor clones."

"They were the easiest to make.  No complications to the cloning process, unlike the Parasites and Bizarros.  The complications come later.  They all had to be aged to exactly the same effective age.  No defects, no blemishes.  No hair, of course.  They had to look exactly like the President.  And then two had to be burned.  The instructions were exact: fourth degree burns covering a circular area six inches in diameter on the left side of the chest surrounded by rings of third degree, second degree and first degree burns, each half an inch wide.  No damage to the face.  He was very specific about that."

"Who was?"

"General Amos Danforth, commander of the Human Defense Corps."

"What did he intend to do with the Luthor clones?"

"I don't know."  Artenberger suddenly grinned.  "It's true, I **don't** know.  You can't make me tell you what I don't know."

"Where are the clones now?" Batman asked.  I glanced at him.  The Atom had disappeared and Batman had opened up the Colonel's controller and was fiddling around inside.  He did not look up from his task.

Artenberger's face contorted with his effort to stay silent, but he answered.  "Four are still here, in the special laboratory.  I got orders to send off two of them this morning, I guess it's yesterday morning now.  One of the burned ones and one of the ones with the special chip."

"What is the special chip?" I asked.

"We use chips implanted in their skulls to control the clones," Artenberger explained.  "That controller," he nodded to the device in Batman's hands, "works on all of them except the Luthor clones.  Their chips are encrypted.  You need a special controller for them."

"Do you have one of the special controllers?"

"No.  We had to sedate the clone so we could transport it."

"Where are the two clones now?"

"I don't know, but I can guess."  Suddenly Artenberger looked afraid.  Sweat stood out on his brow.

"Where do you think they are?"

"One is lying in Luthor's hospital bed and the other one was killed in the attack on the Capitol."

"Is Luthor is on this?" asked Zabrowski.

"I don't know."

"But you think he is?"

Artenberger's face screwed up with terror, but he continued nonetheless, "I'm sure he is, but I don't actually know."

"What **do** you know?" asked Connelly.

"Well, 'In the beginning God created the Heaven and the Earth and the Earth was without form, and …'"

"What did Danforth tell you about the plot?" I interrupted.  "What is he trying to accomplish?"

Artenberger's face transformed into a mask of hatred.  "To start with, to get rid of people like you:  metas who lord it over the rest of us, bleeding-heart liberals and weak sisters who would undermine and destroy this great country of ours."

He glared at Zabrowski.  "And you, in particular.  You almost wrecked my career.  Artenberger **promised** me you'd die."

"He also promised," Artenberger continued avariciously, "we'd have the wealth and power we deserve.  We'll own this country and nobody will be able to tell us what to do.  Except Luthor, I suppose."

Zabrowski and Connelly were shocked into silence by this reply.  I asked, "Who else is involved in the plot?"

"General Danforth didn't tell me.  The techs that worked on the Luthor clones must guess something, of course.  I've kept them segregated from the others and once I'm sure we won't need anymore Luthor clones, they'll have to be liquidated.  I suppose Dr. Moon must know.  He did the surgery on the two damaged Luthor clones."

Batman stood and suddenly he was looming over Artenberger.  "Tell me about Dr. Moon."

"Oriental fellow, taller than most.  Cold fish.  I don't know much more.  He did the brain surgery on the two clones."

"Brain surgery?" I asked.

"They had to be fixed so they wouldn't regain consciousness and spoil things," Artenberger explained, "but their EEGs had to look normal.  Well, normal for someone unconscious from shock.  He took care of it.  Danforth told me Moon was coming; he came, did the job and left.  That's all I know."

Batman remained impassive, but I could sense his rage at this latest revelation.  I was certain he knew Dr. Moon.

At that moment, the Atom dropped into our midst.

"All set," he announced.

Batman nodded.  I looked at the two congressmen.  "Any further questions?"

"You really mean to overthrow the constitution?" asked Connelly, disbelief tingeing his voice.

"Of course we do, you idiot!  'Government by the people', what a stupid idea.  Morons, most of them.  They elected you, didn't they?  Besides, we're only in this for what we can get.  Well, I am and I'm pretty sure Danforth is, too."

Connelly stepped back, shaken by this answer.  Then his lips tightened in anger and determination.

"It's time to go," Batman told them.

"But you wrecked the door so it can't be opened," objected Zabrowksi.  "How are we getting out?"

"Through the vents."

Author's Notes:  The original Parasite gained extra powers due to an encounter with Strange Visitor, including the ability to take the form of another person.  I assume the clones would not possess these extra powers, only the Parasite original powers.  Batman first met Dr. Moon in Batman #240, reprinted in "Tales of the Demon."  There have been other encounters since.  Dr. Moon's specialties are brain surgery and brain washing; his idol is the infamous Nazi war criminal, Dr. Josef Mengele.


	17. Making An Exit

Chapter 17: Making An Exit

All characters are the property of DC Comics. No money is being made on this story and no infringement of copyright is intended.

"How much further?" I whispered to the Atom. Light from a ventilator grill illuminated the shaft.

"It's not much further, Diana. Keep your shirt on." He turned to look over his shoulder at where I crawled behind him. He froze for a moment and gulped.

Hunched over as I was, I realized, I was showing off a considerable amount of cleavage. I smiled.

"Ah, figuratively speaking, of course," he choked out.

"It's not me," I told him. "Connelly is starting to hyperventilate. I think he's slightly claustrophobic. And if Zabrowski's swearing gets much louder, I'm afraid someone will hear him."

"We're almost there," Atom assured me, looking anywhere but at me. He turned back and started forward again. I crawled along behind him, the two congressmen following me, with Batman bringing up the rear.

We came to another grill. The Atom looked out, then turned to me and grinned, thumb up. He scampered past to make room for me. I looked out the grill, to see a room similar to – but much smaller than – the room with the Parasites. This one had only seven tubes, four occupied, and one soldier sitting at a console.

I shifted around, not easy in the confined space, braced my feet against the grill and pushed. The grill popped off and landed with a clang half way across the room. I pushed off against the far wall of the ventilator shaft and popped out, myself. The soldier on duty looked completely confounded. Then he jumped up and turned to run, but he was too late and I grabbed him by the back of his collar. I held him up so his feet dangled just off the ground and turned to look around.

This was where the Luthor clones had been grown, no question about that. Four were still here, fully grown and looking exactly like the President, except that one had a deep burn on its upper right chest. The other three tubes were empty. I looked around for security cameras, but saw none.

Connelly had climbed down and was bent over, his hands on his knees, breathing loudly. Zabrowski slid backwards out of the vent. Batman eeled out after him, then stood, straightened his general's uniform importantly and speared the soldier with his gaze.

"You!" he barked. "Tell me what's going on in this room. Now!"

"Sir, this is a top-secret area. Unless you have clearance…."

Batman stepped up to the soldier. Raised off the ground as he was, the soldier was on eye-level with him. Batman glanced at the soldier's sleeve, taking in his two stripes. Without his paunch, Batman's uniform hung loosely on his frame, but it did not detract from his aura of command.

"What's your name, corporal?"

"Jason Ridder, sir."

"Corporal Ridder, I am General Douglas Peabody of the Inspector General's office. I have been ordered by the Inspector General to inspect of this facility. Every inch of this facility. We suspected there were illegal activities going on. Or did you think it is legal to go around cloning the President of the United States?"

"Uh…"

"Quiet. I have already interrogated your superior, Colonel Artenberger. Now I want confirmation from you on exactly what the hell's going on here."

"Sir, I'm not supposed to talk about it."

"Corporal," Batman's voice went dangerously quiet, "up to this point, you can probably get away with the excuse of just following orders. That won't cut it anymore, unless you are claiming you received orders from a higher authority than the Inspector General. Well?"

"No, sir. What do you want to know, sir?"

"Who knows of this room?"

"There are three other techs, our immediate commander – Lieutenant O'Connor – Colonel Artenberger and Colonel Davis before him. There is a civilian doctor who has worked with the clones. I don't know his name."

"Tall, oriental, wears glasses?"

"Yes, sir."

"No one else?"

"No one I am aware of, sir."

"How long has this operation been going on?"

"Eighteen months."

That meant it had started up within a month or two of Luthor's inauguration. I looked at the congressmen and saw they understood the implications.

"How many clones have been produced?"

"Seven, sir, including the four still here."

"Artenberger said six," Batman snapped.

"One was before his time, maybe he doesn't know about it."

"Tell me about that first clone. When did it leave?"

"Five months ago. That civilian doctor came here and operated on it and then it was shipped out. I don't know where they go, sir."

"That would have been right about when The Daily Planet broke the story that Luthor knew in advance about the attack by the Imperiex probes."

"Funny you should mention that, sir. We got the order to rush the completion of one clone a couple of days before I read about that in the newspaper. The clone was shipped out the day before the President's news conference, the one where he proved he didn't know."

"So that's how he defeated the Martian Manhunter's mind probe," I told the congressmen. "Of course the clone knew nothing of the attack."

I could see that both the corporal and Batman had already guessed the truth. The corporal went pale.

"Maybe, I shouldn't say anything more, sir. I mean the President; he outranks even the Inspector General. If he's behind all this…"

"Do you know he's behind it?" growled Batman.

"No, but the sergeant just said…"

"The sergeant is speculating. The court martial you'll be facing if you don't answer my questions is no speculation. What happened to the other two clones?"

The corporal glanced over his shoulder at the door into the room. He said, "They went out early this morning. That doctor was here a couple of days ago to operate on them and then we shipped them out. As I said, sir, I don't know where they go."

"Anything special about either clone?"

The corporal glanced at the door again. "One was burned exactly like the clone in tube 4, if that's what you mean, sir."

I sidled towards the door.

"Why do you keep glancing at the door?" demanded Batman. "According to what you and the Colonel both said, no one in security should even know about this room."

"Actually…"

With a loud bam!, the door blew off its hinges and flew across the room. I barely ducked out of the way in time, pulling Senator Connelly – who had followed me curiously – with me. The door imbedded itself in the opposite wall.

In the doorway stood a Bizarro.

"… we have our own security, sir."

"Hee-yah!" I flew straight into the Bizarro, knocking him out of the room, across the corridor, through the wall on the other side and into the room beyond. I had a brief glimpse of dimly lit pallets of cartons and supplies, now scattered and broken.

Behind, I heard Batman talking. "Oracle, extraction now. Home on this signal." Calling up all of my Hermes-given speed, I struck again and again. The Bizarro shrugged off the blows and backhanded me back through the wall. The blow was not as powerful as I had expected. I was on my feet in an instant. The Bizarro was faster and I barely ducked out of his way. I grabbed his leg as he went by and jerked. He tumbled and hit the wall broadsides, smashing through it, back into the Luthor Clone Room and, from the sound of it, out through the wall on the other side. At this rate, I thought fretfully, the ceiling won't stay up much longer.

I flew through into the room, my attention on the gaping hole in the far wall. This time, I didn't even see him coming. This time, he hit every bit as hard as I had expected. The pain tinted my vision red. But I twisted in mid-air and the Bizarro hit the wall first.

We were back in the storeroom, I realized. I grabbed the Bizarro's arm and threw him over my shoulder. He hit the wall, bounced back and I slammed into him, knocking him through another wall. This room was brightly lit and full of astonished soldiers.

This time, the Bizarro was slower getting up than I was. I grabbed his foot and pulled. He fell and I swung him around by his foot and let go. He hit the wall and smashed through into the storeroom. I followed, pursued by ill-aimed fire from the soldiers. I caught the Bizarro getting to his feet and knocked him back down, hitting him again and again, giving him no chance to recover. He grunted with pain, feeling the blows, and… he shouldn't. The soldiers called to each other, getting up the courage to follow us through the gaps in the walls. I heard Batman calling.

"Princess, back here!" One last blow and I turned towards the corridor.

It was filled with smoke, punctuated by plasma bolts. Evidently other soldiers had been drawn to the scene of destruction. I sped across the corridor and into the Clone Room. The corporal and both congressmen were prone on the floor – for good reason. There was damage all around and one of the tubes had been shattered. Evidently plasma blaster bolts had ricocheted into the room. Batman was crouched near the doorway, the Atom on his shoulder. He nodded at me; then his eyes looked past me. I turned and saw the Bizarro walking through the plasma bolts towards me. He ignored the plasma bolts impacting on his body and continued relentlessly forward. I braced myself for attack when a small ball flew past me and hit him on the chest. It burst into a spray of red dust and the monster screamed in agony. He raised his arms, as if to shield himself from the red kryptonite dust, but it was useless. He staggered sideways into a wall and then, with a sweep of his arm, shattered it. I heard a roar and the roof fell in.

Only, it was not out in the corridor where the Bizarro still cried out in pain, but inside the Clone Room. I turned and saw the pile of rubble choking the center of the room and, on top of it, a young man in an all-black costume.

Through the gap in the ceiling flew another young man, but even the all-black costume couldn't disguise Superboy, looking much better than the last time I had seen him.

"Damage, dude," he exclaimed, "you **know** how to make an entrance! Or, in this case," he chuckled, "an exit." He glanced at me and stopped. "Whoa, who's the hot chick?"

I batted my eyelashes at him playfully. "A little peroxide and you don't recognize me, Superboy?" I teased. "I feel insulted."

"Diana," growled Batman, "get the invisible plane ready. Superboy, help Damage."

Superboy snapped off an irreverent salute as he helped the dazed Damage to his feet. I carefully removed the miniscule invisible plane from under my thumbnail and willed it back to full size. As soon as that was done, I helped Batman shepherd everyone aboard. With the agonized cries of the Bizarro echoing in my ears and the plasma bolts of the soldiers ricocheting all around us, the invisible plane thundered upwards, through the gap in the roof and into the night.

Author's Note: The Daily Planet story appeared in several of Superman's comics a couple of years ago. As far as I know, Luthor coming up clean – when his pre-knowledge is shown in the Our Worlds At War trade paperbacks – has never previously been explained. Red kryptonite, a non-lethal but extremely painful alternative to green kryptonite, was developed by Batman and first appeared in the JLA issues collected in the Tower of Babel trade paperback. Damage was accidentally left off the teams listed in Chapter 11, but that proved providential!


	18. A Change in Plans

Chapter 18: A Change in Plans

All characters are the property of DC Comics. No money is being made on this story and no infringement of copyright is intended.

Plasma cannon opened fire as the invisible plane blasted out into the open. But the gunners could not spot – let alone track – us, and the bolts of plasma went wide, lighting up the night sky like the Fourth of July.

Behind me, I heard Superboy explaining to the terrified congressmen, "I flew Damage in. These suits are like the skin of a stealth bomber; they absorb radar. They never saw us. I was supposed to keep the soldiers away from Damage, but they didn't even know we were there until he exploded, so there was nothing for me to do." He sounded disgusted.

Batman ignored him. "Oracle, report."

"They did it," she answered crisply. "Belle Reeve was taken completely by surprise. They overwhelmed the defenses and were able to liberate all the prisoners there. Then the fake JLA turned up. They must be based there, as we thought. Nightwing says he has good video of his team fighting the fake JLA. That should put a crimp in Luthor's plans. The HDC showed up just as they were loading everyone up to leave. They had to hold them off while the shuttles got away, but everyone got out."

She paused, then continued evenly, "Empress got hurt bad. It's touch and go whether she'll make it."

Batman said nothing; he just looked grim. After a moment, he asked, "What about the prisoners?"

"Arsenal and Huntress are in bad shape, but they should make it. They are on their way back to Atlantis with Empress, Traya and Arrowette's mother. Booster Gold is OK physically but they couldn't find his suit, so Nightwing sent him back with the others. He wanted to send Arrowette back, as well, but she insisted on staying. Green Arrow, Jesse Quick, Guy Gardner, Red Tornado, Captain Marvel Jr. and Argent are fine and itching for a little payback. There was no sign at Belle Reeve of Jakeem Williams, Connor Hawke, Captain Marvel, Captain Atom or Cyborg."

"We have no confirmation that Connor was captured," Batman replied. "They'll be trying to brainwash Jakeem, not knowing he can't call up the Thunderbolt. He will be wherever the Mad Hatter and Scarecrow are. The others…." He looked even grimmer. At this rate, I thought, that scowl is going to be permanently etched into his face.

"You'll be rendezvousing with the Javelin 7 in about ten minutes," Oracle told us.

"The Javelin 7?" he questioned. "The special equipment is aboard the Javelin 8."

"I believe Nightwing had that transferred to the Javelin 7 before he sent the 8 back to Atlantis with the wounded. In any case, Nightwing is aboard the 7 and will brief you on the change in plans."

Batman was scowling fiercely now, but it was evident that Oracle would say no more on the subject.

"You know," I said conversationally, "if you keep that up, your face will freeze like that."

He turned his scowl on me and I smiled.

"For a former Goddess of Truth, you don't show much respect for it."

I laughed. I think a corner of his mouth twitch slightly, but I wouldn't swear to it.

He turned to look towards the rear of the plane.

"Atom, were you able to record everything?"

The diminutive Atom patted his equally diminutive video camera. "It's all here. Both interrogations, shots of both clone rooms, as well as some footage of that Bizarro."

"Good," grunted Batman, "that should back up the congressmen's testimony."

"Yes," cried Connelly, "we have to tell the rest of Congress what we saw."

"There is someone else who needs to know even more urgently than Congress," Batman told him.

I tensed. Evidently, he was still determined to go through with it.

"I still think this is a bad idea," I whispered softly, so only he could hear me.

"Who?" demanded Zabrowski. "Who could be more important than our duty to Congress?"

"President Ross," Batman replied.

A stunned silence followed this pronouncement. Then Zabrowski said, without heat, "You **are** insane."

"Think about what you've seen," replied Batman. "Do you have any doubt there is a plot to overthrow the constitution, using this manufactured crisis as a pretext?"

"There's no proof Luthor is involved," put in Connelly.

"True, but there are only two alternatives: either Luthor is guilty of treason or he's dead and a clone is about to take over his position as President of the United States. A clone controlled by General Danforth or whoever he is working for. Can you think of any other explanation?"

They looked at each other. Zabrowski shrugged. "No."

"Then Ross has to know. He is the only one in a position to act in time. Congress will need to be informed – treason is an impeachable offense, if anything is – but they can't hope to act in time to derail this. Ross can."

"Even you can't get us into the White House without Luthor finding out," Zabrowski countered. "Then our lives won't be worth spit. And how are you going to get us in to see Ross? He'll be surrounded by Secret Service agents!"

I noted with suppressed amusement that Zabrowski had, consciously or unconsciously, abandoned the pretense that Luthor might not be involved.

"I can get you into the White House and I can get you in to see Ross. I will personally ensure your safety." Batman spoke with all the assurance at his command.

The two congressmen looked wordlessly at each other. Finally, Connelly said, "We've already seen him do impossible things, Piotr. Maybe he can do what he says."

"Maybe," conceded Zabrowski. "In any case, I don't think we have much choice." He looked at Batman. "I don't suppose," he asked sardonically, "that you would take us to the Congress instead, if we asked nicely?"

I answered him. "If that's what you want."

"But," Batman added, "I would do my best to talk you out of it. Luthor will have his spies planted there. What do you think he'll do when he learns you've shown up? My guess is a second 'super hero' attack will wipe out the entire congress and force Luthor, reluctantly, to assume absolute power. Luthor would prefer to have dictatorial powers granted him legally, but I'm sure he would dispense with the legalities in a pinch."

That produced a second stunned silence. "He would have to," Zabrowski whispered. "He's in so deep, he wouldn't have a choice."

"Then we don't either," said Connelly. "We'll have to do as he says and hope Ross is up to handling the situation."

"Good," grunted Batman. He turned to me. "Hold out your hands."

Mystified, I did as he asked.

"Invisible plane," Batman ordered, "check Diana's hands for radiation."

"There are trace amounts of radioactivity present," the plane intoned immediately, "similar but not identical to kryptonite radiation."

"Must be synthetic kryptonite," Batman grunted. "That's not good. Superboy will have to be careful."

"I don't understand."

"They impregnated the walls of that prison cell with minute amounts of synthetic kryptonite so they could contain the Bizarros, if necessary. You got some on your hands when you ripped the grill off. That's why you had such an easy time fighting the Bizarro – the kryptonite weakened it."

I was amused at his idea of an "easy time", but I took his point: my previous encounter with a Bizarro had been far less successful.

"Stay away from Superboy," he added.

"The amount of radiation is too small to have an effect on a being of Kryptonian heritage," the plane responded.

"Most of the kryptonite must have been rubbed off during the fight," Batman commented. "Too bad."

"So I'll have no advantage if I tangle with another Bizarro," I translated.

"Affirmative," the plane responded. Then it added, "We are coming up on the Javelin 7."

I turned and looked forward. I could see the flame from the Javelin 7's engines off to the left. The invisible plane turned towards it.

Once we were close enough, I mentally ordered the invisible jet to form a conduit joining the two planes. Superboy and Damage raced each other across, enjoying the sensation of walking on air. The two congressmen were a different matter. Intellectually, they knew there was a solid path in front of them, but their emotions were telling them they were about to step out into thin air at 30,000 feet. While Batman waited impatiently, I coaxed them into crossing. Connelly, I noticed, kept his eyes resolutely shut the whole time. I followed behind them, with Batman crowding behind me.

I stepped into the Javelin 7. It was packed: in addition to Superboy, Damage and the congressmen; the craft held Nightwing, Supergirl, Flamebird, Changeling, Steel, Mary Marvel, Jason, the Ray and Lois Lane. Supergirl was scowling, her anger barely under control. Empress was one of the 'kids' she had been in charge of and clearly she was taking it hard.

"What's this about a change in plans?" barked Batman, even before he had fully entered. I stepped out of his way and watched as he scanned the crowd. His eyes fixed on Lois Lane.

"No."

"Ah, come on, Big Guy," Nightwing wheedled, grinning. "I had to put up with her. Now it's your turn."

Lois paid no attention to this. She marched straight towards Batman, halting with her raised nose nearly touching his chin.

"I'm coming," she stated. "You need me for the same reason you need the congressmen. I can attest to what happened at Belle Reeve. I know both Ross and his wife personally; they're good friends of my husband. They'll believe me."

Batman's scowled shifted to Nightwing.

"Hey, I didn't tell her!"

"What? You thought I wouldn't figure it out?" Lois sounded insulted. "Your story about Congress wouldn't fool a cub reporter. It would take them days to make up their minds; Luthor won't give them that time. You have to go straight to Pete Ross, and I'm coming with you."

"No."

I said, "Welcome along, Lois."

Batman turned to me, looking – beneath his scowl – surprised and hurt.

"We both know who's going to win this argument," I told him. "I'm just speeding things along."

He grunted. "Let's get ready. We don't have much time."

Author's Note: Diana fought a Bizarro in the "Trinity" mini-series.


	19. A Last Look

Chapter 19: A Last Look

All characters are the property of DC Comics. No money is being made on this story and no infringement of copyright is intended.

We came in low and fast, following the course of the Potomac. I carried Batman and Lois Lane; Superboy carried the two congressmen. Our black costumes hid us from radar and unfriendly eyes. We veered sharply to the left, leaving the Potomac for the streets of Washington. There was no traffic at 4:00 AM, but there were plenty of HDC roadblocks to dodge. Finally, we set down in a wooded park three-quarters of a mile from the White House.

I surveyed the area. "I don't see anyone."

Batman was busy stripping out of the black over garment. He didn't look up, but said, "She'll be here. There's an emergency escape tunnel from the White House that lets out a couple of hundred yards from here. It may take her a little time to negotiate the distance in the dark, but she'll be here."

I looked around again. Lois and the two congressmen were removing their black suits. Superboy stood, arms crossed, on guard. The pinched look that had been on his face since he learned of Empress's condition remained. He kept looking around, as if hoping to find a target for his anger and worry.

I turned and could just make out three figures in the gloom ahead of us. "Someone's coming."

Batman nodded and straightened up. He looked entirely different from 'General Peabody' or – for that matter – Bruce Wayne. He seemed shorter, somehow, and there was a slight Latin cast to his features. His thick black hair was closely cropped, he wore a mustache, and a gold crown shone prominently whenever he opened his mouth. He was dressed in suit and tie and was attaching an identification badge to his coat.

"You and Superboy hang back," he instructed. "I don't want to have to explain who you are."

I nodded and we stepped back. I could see the three figures more clearly. Two were young men dressed in suits, with unmistakable bulges under their armpits. One wore a headset; the other had a hand inside his coat, ready to pull out his gun at the slightest excuse. They were tense and the way their eyes scanned the area said clearly that they were bodyguards. Secret Service, no doubt.

The third figure was a lovely blonde woman with a look of stubborn determination on her face. I had no trouble recognizing Lana Lang Ross, the wife of the former Vice-President and now Acting President, Pete Ross.

The two men stopped. Lana walked up to Batman and looked him over.

"Different outfit, this time," she stated. Then, "It **is** you, isn't it?"

"Rancid rutabaga."

Lana relaxed slightly. "Stupid password." She sighed.

"You know, when you first contacted me," she told him conversationally, "I never really thought it would come to this. I knew Luthor was a sleazebag and capable of just about anything, but I thought he was smoother than this. But the fact that I don't trust Luthor doesn't mean I trust you."

"You know he framed the JLA," Batman replied.

"I know he framed Superman. I'm not so sure about the rest of you."

Lois stepped up next to Batman. "Lana, I've seen the fake JLA in action. These congressmen," she waved her hand at Connelly and Zabrowski, who stepped forward also, "have seen the facility where the Luthor clones were grown. That's a clone lying in Luthor's bed."

Both congressmen nodded in agreement. Lois continued, "As soon as Congress passes the Emergency Powers Act, the clone will vanish and the real Luthor will reappear, miraculously healed, to take over as a completely legal dictator. What do you think the lives of your husband and congress will be worth then?"

Lana thought about that. Finally, she asked, "What do you want?"

"We need to see your husband," Batman told her. "He needs to hear this first hand, so that he can act before Luthor does."

"You're cutting things awfully close," Lana replied sardonically. "Congress reconvenes in two hours."

"So we need to get moving." When Lana continued to hesitate, he added, "Lana, you've seen how your husband has changed, month by month, ceasing to be the man you married."

Lana looked sharply at Batman. "How do you know that?" she demanded suspiciously.

"Because I know how Luthor is brainwashing him. It can be undone, it **will** be undone, but we're running out of time. We either act now or Luthor wins."

Lana nodded once, decisively. She turned to her escorts, who stepped forward. "Paul, George, this is…" She turned and looked at Batman, obviously unsure what name to use.

"Agent Raul Ramirez, FBI Special Investigations." He removed his ID badge, slowly, and handed it to the man with the headset.

George inspected it carefully without ever taking his attention off the Batman. He passed it on to Paul.

"We have evidence," Batman explained, "of a plot within the government to overthrow the constitution. We must get that evidence to the President."

"We have to get them to the President," Lana broke in. "And no one else can know they're here."

"We have reason to believe," Batman added, "that the conspiracy reaches into the White House."

"What is this evidence?" demanded George.

Batman waved an arm, slowly, to indicate the congressmen and Lois Lane. "Senator Harold Connelly, Congressman Piotr Zabrowski and Lois Lane, a reporter." George lifted an eyebrow in recognition of the names. "They are eyewitnesses. We also have video recordings." He patted a coat pocket.

The two Secret Service men looked uncertain.

"Please, George," Lana said. "My husband has to know. I'll take full responsibility."

She had, of course, no legal authority and so could not take responsibility. But I suspected Pete Ross leaned heavily on his sensible and strong-minded spouse. That would give her a real authority not easily ignored.

George sighed. "I know I'm going to regret this. Mrs. Ross, I can't keep this from the other Secret Service people."

"But no one else must know," Lana insisted, "not even the HDC or FBI or any of the other people 'protecting' my husband. Just the Secret Service."

"OK. Those three can come but he stays." George looked suspiciously at Batman. Even through the disguise he evidently discerned the aura of dangerousness the Batman exuded.

"The safety of these people is my responsibility," Batman told him.

"We'll take care of that from here on out."

"You know it doesn't work that way."

George grimaced, stumped. The Secret Service agents knew, none better, that the ultimate responsibility for their charges could not be delegated. He pulled out his automatic and pointed it at Batman.

"Paul, search him."

Staying carefully out of the line of fire, Paul searched him. He pocketed the two DVD cases he found and raised an eyebrow at the empty shoulder holster.

"No gun?"

"I knew you wouldn't let me keep it."

Finding nothing else of interest, Paul moved on to search the other three, with similar results.

Paul moved back to join George, who nodded his head at Superboy and me. "What about them?"

"They helped us get this far, but they're not coming with us," Batman said.

"OK, this is the drill. You four will walk ahead of us. No funny moves. Everybody is real trigger-happy right now. We wouldn't want any unfortunate incidents."

Batman nodded and then turned and looked at me.

I stepped forward and kissed him lightly. "May the Gods be with you."

Bruce scowled. "I don't believe in gods," he growled as he turned away.

I was surprised at how much that hurt and then I wondered why I had expected any different.

I had, I realized, hoped for a glimpse of the Bruce Wayne I knew beneath the Batman's mask before we parted. Yet now, I thought, Bruce Wayne would only be a liability. We needed Batman – cold, unemotional Batman, who could snatch out of a tangle of chaos the one thread that led to victory. The man I had first been attracted to. I laughed softly at myself.

Batman stopped and turned back to me, puzzled by my laughter.

"May they be with you, anyway," I told him.

He looked taken aback. He turned and, together with the others, walked into the darkness. Lana and her escorts stepped behind, blocking my last look at the man I loved.

I heard George speak into his microphone. "This is Johansen. We're coming in and we have guests." Pause, then, "Take that up with the First Lady."

I am not a prophet like Menalippe but suddenly I was filled with a chilling certainty that my next glimpse of Bruce would be of his dying body.

Author's Notes: Lana Lang (as she was then) was kidnapped, drugged and tortured at Luthor's orders in Superman #1 (2nd series). It could never be proven but she has born an understandable grudge against him ever since. In the trade paperback "President Lex" she expresses the hope that Luthor will get caught at something and her husband will become President. Menalippe is the Amazon's priestess and oracle and appears frequently in Wonder Woman from #1 (2nd series) on.


	20. Into the Lion's Den

Chapter 20: Into the Lion's Den

All characters are the property of DC Comics. No money is being made on this story and no infringement of copyright is intended.

I couldn't get that last sight of Diana out of my mind. She was smiling, laughing – did she have any idea how enchanting her laughter was? – she looked almost cheerful; and that was just wrong. She knew how dangerous this was; she had argued against it vociferously enough. Why was she so light-hearted now?

The analytical part of my mind suggested I was focusing on that image because it might be the last time I ever saw Diana. That thought brought the Bat to the forefront. I could not afford such thoughts, it told me. I agreed, took a deep steadying breath and allowed the mantle of the Bat to settle over me. I ruthlessly pushed all thoughts of Diana to the back of my mind, where they could not distract me.

It was none too soon. We were approaching a small concrete hut, the sort of structure that might contain supplies for the gardeners who maintained the park. Paul pulled out a key – the lock was a Medeco double cylinder Maxum deadbolt, I noted – and opened the door.

Inside was a small room with the door to an elevator at the far end. The only other thing in the room was a metal table along one wall, with a variety of electronic gadgets on it. One resembled a microwave with a small screen on top but was, in fact, a compact x-ray machine; another was a large screen video comsystem. While Paul covered us, George collected a wand that anyone who flew regularly would recognize.

"Arms out to the sides and legs apart," he ordered us and proceeded to identify every bit of metal on each of us, including the gold crown on one of my molars. He let me keep the crown, but everything else went – one by one – into the "microwave" to be x-rayed. Then a second, more complex-looking wand was run over us, inside and outside of our coats and jackets.

Next came an item a little like an oversized palmtop, except that – when he pointed it at each of us in turn – a red beam came out of the end and scanned over us from the top of our heads to the tips of our toes. George grunted as the readout on the scanner showed that none of us were metas.

Lana Ross had to go through the same examination as the rest of us, although the Secret Service agents were noticeably more polite with her. Throughout the whole process, Paul kept his gun out and his attention focused on us.

Finally, George turned to the comsystem. He hit a button and the screen came alive with the image of another man; from his dress and demeanor, another Secret Service agent.

"We're through up here. We're coming down. Better tell Hirst; he'll want to be there."

"He's already here," the other agent told him, "and anxious to hear your reason for bringing in guests at a time like this."

"I told you," George replied with some irritation. "Talk to the First Lady about that."

We got into the elevator; it was crowded with all seven of us in there. Paul held his gun to my head as the elevator descended. I estimated we were thirty feet underground when it stopped and the door opened into a considerably larger vestibule than up top.

We had a welcoming committee: a half dozen Secret Service in body armor and holding HDC-standard issue plasma rifles pointed at us, plus one more in a suit and tie, wearing a headset with no weapon visible. He was obviously "Hirst" and I looked him over carefully. He was a stocky black man, no more than average height, with close-cropped black hair and a no-nonsense air about him. He looked tired and angry, but he had both well under control. His gaze passed over each of us, in turn, and I was sure he missed no detail. He would be a hard man to fool. But Oracle did good work and I knew that my identity would stand up to any check.

"Mrs. Ross," he asked finally, "why are these people here?" His tiredness showed in his voice. It had been a long, hard day for all of the Secret Service, made worse by the death of their comrades and the bitter knowledge that they had failed to stop an assassination attempt. He would be all the more determined to protect this president. I bit my lip. Anything I said right now would make things worse. The way he looked at Mrs. Ross told me she had earned a measure of his trust. I would have to leave this to her.

"They have to see my husband, Josh," she answered quietly. "There's a plot against him. They are witnesses to it. Only they can tell him what he needs to know to stop it."

"It seems to me," Hirst said, "that it's pretty clear who is plotting against the government. We have plenty of eyewitnesses and more than a few dead bodies to show for it."

"It's not the metas!" she responded with quiet urgency. Wrong thing to say to people already convinced of the metas' guilt; it just undermined her credibility. I had to say something, or this would quickly go south.

"Not all of the metas," I corrected. "Some are involved." Hirst's searching gaze shifted to me.

I continued. "There are plots within plots and our evidence indicates they extend even into the White House. These three are...."

"I recognize them," Hirst interrupted, "but I don't recognize you."

"Paul Ramirez," George supplied, "FBI."

"So, Paul Ramirez, FBI," Hirst said, "how do I know you're not part of this plot? How do I know you're not trying to get close enough to the President to kill him?"

"You don't. But, you can make sure we don't have any weapons, you can run your tests on us to make sure we aren't shape-shifting metas or mind-controlled, you can escort us to him and guard him from us. I don't care if you hear the story, in fact the more the better."

"Hmm. Well, I'll take you up on the first part of that, in any case. Strip."

I started untying my tie. Lois protested, "I'm not going to strip in front of all of you. Besides, it's ridiculous. You ran us through the hoop upstairs and I'm sure you have metal detectors and x-ray machines and I don't know what all else down here. Why do we need to strip?"

"Oh, I'll run you through our metal detectors and x-ray machines and meta-detectors and EEGs and I'll check your identities three ways to Tuesday, but I'm an old-fashioned kind of guy and so we'll do a physical search as well."

"You can't run identity checks on these three," I objected. "If you run their retina scans or finger prints through your system, it will tell the conspirators they're here. Didn't you hear me say the conspiracy extends into the White House? The congressmen are supposed to be dead and the only way Lois Lane would be allowed in tonight is as a witness. You can run my identity if you want – as FBI, I could be here for any number of reasons – but if you run theirs, you might as well shoot the President yourself."

I heard Lana gasp and I saw Hirst flinch, but nothing showed in his voice when he said, "You are assuming they have hacked our computer system and they can get at the President, despite our best efforts."

"These people are pros who have had months to prepare. Of course I'm assuming that! I don't know who is involved and who isn't. That's why we have to go to the top."

"Why don't you tell me your evidence and let me decide," Hirst suggested.

"I have no objection, except that it will waste time we don't have, but let me ask you something: how will you know whether we're telling truth? And how do I know if you're part of the plot?"

"You're right about one thing: this is wasting time. Jaime, get Marsha down here to search Ms. Lane. You," he turned to Lois, "can strip in there." He pointed to a small door off the side of the vestibule. "The rest of you, strip."

We stripped. They did a cavity search; then they x-rayed us, took our EEGs, did meta-scans, used metal detectors. Hirst walked over to the congressmen and grabbed Zabrowski's nose and pulled. From the cry this produced, he must have pulled hard. Then he stepped over to Connelly and yanked on his famous jowls. Nothing came off.

"Sorry," Hirst told them, "but I have to be sure you are really who you appear to be. Some disguises won't show up on the scanners."

He left me alone, but then he had checked my retinal scan, fingerprints and DNA against their computerized records. They **knew** I was who I said I was.

Finally, Hirst let us dress again and we assembled once more in the vestibule. Hirst frowned at us, but said nothing.

Mrs. Ross said, "Josh, he has to know."

Hirst sighed. "Yeah, I'm afraid you're right." He looked at me. "Your ID checked out. I wondered. You don't seem like FBI. CIA, more like. I could believe you're a spook."

I blinked. I must be slipping.

"All right, let's go." He led us through a door and into a long corridor. It looked like it extended the whole three-quarters of a mile to the White House. Four golf cart-sized vehicles lined one side of the corridor. Three of the agents in body armor climbed into the first cart; the others took the last. Hirst split the rest of us between the middle carts and we rolled down the corridor. I was reminded of Diana's comment, when we entered the clone factory. But this wasn't Ali Baba's cave; this was the lion's den. Daniel knew he had God on his side, but I didn't believe in God. I had Diana on my side. It would have to do.


	21. Springing The Trap

Chapter 21: Springing The Trap

All characters are the property of DC Comics. No money is being made on this story and no infringement of copyright is intended.

At the end of the passageway, the Secret Service agents hustled us out of the carts and through another checkpoint. From there it was a quarter mile of corridors to our goal. Four more Secret Service agents in body armor with plasma rifles stood guard in front of the door. Hirst had a hurried conversation with the guards and then we were ushered inside. Two of our guards peeled off to join those outside. I averted my gaze from these men; there was nothing I could do for them.

The door swung open and I saw four more heavily armed Secret Service men surrounding a figure sitting at a huge, wooden desk, his head in his hands. The room, I saw, was a double for the Oval Office, except that unadorned concrete walls replaced the windows.

President Ross was an unprepossessing figure at the best of times; now, he seemed to have shrunk under his burdens. He had dark pouches under worried eyes and his skin had an unhealthy gray tinge to it. Then he looked up and his smile lit his face like the rising sun. He stood.

"Lana! I was wondering where you had gotten to!"

He stepped around the desk and hugged his wife. Then he saw the rest of us, huddled in a group just inside the doorway. He looked puzzled.

"Who are all these people?" Then recognition came. "Piotr, Harry, I was afraid you were dead. And Lois, what are you doing here?"

Lois burst into explanations, but I barely paid attention, now that my target was in sight. Sitting on the desk were a framed picture (of Ross' wife and son, I was sure), a blotter pad, a gold fountain pen (an affectation of Luthor's) and, on the corner of the desk, a nondescript ring box. Inside would be the ring. Luthor thought it was his kryptonite ring, but months ago Superman, Lois and I had replaced it with a fake. That was my goal.

The Secret Service agents had moved back to line the walls, giving the President and his guests space, but they were watching us – me, in particular – carefully. I inched away from the group and towards the ring box. Hirst speared me with a look, evidently still suspicious of me. I smiled and raised my hands disarmingly and took a step away from the President, and a little closer to the ring box.

I heard Connelly forget and call me "Batman". Hirst's eyes blazed and half the guns in the room were suddenly pointed my way. I cursed silently and froze. President Ross didn't notice any of it. He walked around and sat down at the desk, his eyes narrowed in perplexity.

"Let me see if I have it straight. Luthor isn't dead; he's a clone?"

"The Luthor shot in the Capitol was a clone, Love," Mrs. Ross answered softly, "and the Luthor lying in the hospital bed is a clone. The real Luthor is waiting until the Emergency Powers Act passes and then he will reappear and take control."

"Yes, yes, that's what I meant. And the JLA that attacked the Capitol wasn't the real JLA?"

"You know how surprised you were that Superman would behave like that?" Lana reminded him. "That wasn't the real Superman."

"But how do you know this? How can you be sure?"

Lois started talking rapidly, waving her hands as she explained. Ross waved her to silence and looked wearily at his wife.

"Do you believe them, Lana?"

Mrs. Ross took a deep breath and said, "Yes, love, I do."

Ross put his head in his hands again. I heard the door behind me swish open as he said, plaintively, "I don't know what to think."

Knowing it was now or never, I took a step forward and grabbed the ring box off the desk as a familiar, mocking voice behind me said, "Of course not. I haven't told you what to think yet."

Not one of the Secret Service agents even glanced at me. Their attention, and weapons, were all focused on the doorway, but no one fired. I turned and saw, standing in the doorway, Lex Luthor wearing a bathrobe. Hope and Mercy flanked him, their guns pointed at President Ross. Mercy was wearing a headset. Behind stood two men. I recognized one as Dr. Moon. The other wore a trench coat with the collar turned up and a hat pulled forward, leaving his face in shadow. His stance, confident with power but without the balance of a martial artist, screamed meta. Beyond were the crumpled bodies of the agents who had guarded the door. They had not even lived long enough to give a warning.

"Now, now," Luthor purred softly, "let's nobody do anything rash. Remember, **I** am the President. You have served your purpose, Pete, but I'm back now, so you can slink back to the shadows where you belong."

"Not according to the constitution," I remarked. "Under the 21st (?) Amendment, you cannot reclaim your position until you have sent notice in writing to both the President Pro Tem of the Senate and the Speaker of the House."

Luthor turned to look at me and, after a moment, I could see recognition click into place. He looked at the ring box in my hand.

"Come back to try a second time, Batman? Yes, I know who you are. Did you think I would fall for your trick? If you wanted me to believe you were one of those men you planted evidence on, you shouldn't have included Bruce Wayne in the group. I've met that brainless fop: he couldn't possibly be you. Put the ring down, Batman."

I flipped open the box and glanced at the ring, then set it down on the desk with the open side facing Luthor. The trap was sprung; now we would see who had caught whom. I smiled and bit down hard on the fake crown.

Author's Notes: Batman, Superman and Lois Lane recovered the kryptonite ring from the White House in the story, "The Ring", in Detective # 756 and Superman #168.


	22. Moving to the Next Phase

Chapter 22: Moving to the Next Phase

All characters are the property of DC Comics. No money is being made on this story and no infringement of copyright is intended.

Hirst jerked slightly and glanced at me but said nothing. A second later, Mercy put her free hand to her ear, cupping the speaker there.

"Lex, there's been an unauthorized transmission from this room."

Lex turned sharply towards her. "Did it make it out?"

Mercy shook her head. "No, this complex is too well shielded. No one outside it could possibly have received the transmission."

Luthor relaxed and turned to me. "Nice try, Batman, but it didn't work."

Two hundred yards away, in another room of the underground complex, a young man looked up.

"Five minute warning," he told his companion. She merely nodded.

I smiled and gestured towards Luthor. "A miraculous recovery, Luthor. From fourth degree burns to completely healed in a little over twelve hours."

"Oh, I still have my burns," Luthor replied easily. He pulled apart the top of his bathrobe to show bandages on his left breast. "But Dr. Moon's experimental treatments did bring me back from the brink of death."

"That's impressive, considering that Moon's specialties are brain surgery and mind control. What do your regular doctors say?"

Luthor smiled. "Anything I want them to say."

"Did you use the Mad Hatter's mind-control gadgets on them, or did Moon and the Scarecrow work them over? I guess the first, since the latter would take too long. But you're overlooking the clone of you with the fourth degree burns. The one in your hospital bed that everyone thinks is you."

"A minor detail. It will be disposed of prior to my official reappearance."

"So you have everything covered," I said. Luthor just smiled. "Why, Luthor, why? You were President of the United States, as well as one of the wealthiest and most respected men in America. Wasn't that enough for you?"

Luthor's smiling affability disappeared and a mad hatred showed in his eyes. "With you lot lording it over us mere humans? I promised myself years ago that I would destroy you all: you, Superman, the JLA and all the other metas who think they are better than the rest of us. I tried, first with that bunch of failures, the Injustice Gang, and then allying myself with the Queen Bee, Prometheus and the General. But each time, you were one step ahead of me.

"Then I realized how easy it would be if I were President. With access to so many levers of power, I could set up a frame you couldn't wiggle out of and then I could turn the full force of the government against you, and make myself the legal dictator of this country in the process. It was foolproof and all I had to do was convince fifty million idiots to vote for me. I almost laughed myself sick when I realized how easy it would be. Why hadn't I thought of it before?"

He looked at Ross. "Pete, tell them to lay down their guns. Tell them I'm the true President."

I looked at Ross. His face was pale and strained and sweat stood out on his forehead. He opened his mouth, as if to obey Luthor's command, but then Mrs. Ross grabbed his arm.

"Don't, Pete, don't let him control you. He'll kill us all, if you do. He can't let us live to tell the truth about him."

"Not all of you, Mrs. Ross. I still need you and Pete. Of course, we'll have to do something about your memories. But perhaps that's painless." He turned an inquiring eye on Dr. Moon.

"Excruciatingly painful," Moon intoned.

Luthor smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "Ah, well. Maybe, if you're nice to me, we'll just slap one of the Mad Hatter's mind control devices on you."

"Be nice to you?" Mrs. Ross exploded. "After you had me kidnapped and tortured? Then brainwashed my husband? You expect me to be nice to you?"

Luthor's brows knitted. "Kidnapped? Tortured?"

"You don't remember?" Mrs. Ross looked incredulous.

Luthor shrugged, smiling. "Well, there have been so many."

Suddenly, Ross leaped out of his chair, straight across the desk, his arms out in front of him. I was barely able to grab his arm and pull him back. Hirst grabbed his other arm.

"You dirty son-of-a-bitch!" Ross raved. "I'll kill you with my bare hands!"

I had no doubt he would have done it, but I knew he would never reach Luthor. Not alive, at any rate.

"Tsk," Moon said, "I warned you, Lex, that his programming might not stand up to a major shock."

"Yes, yes, doctor," Luthor replied testily, "I remember. You'll just have to reprogram him. We still need Pete, for a little while longer."

Mercy put a hand to her ear. "Lex, FearSat2 just went off line. No explanation… wait… FearSat1 is gone as well. NORAD reports Whitehorse is firing without authorization. It must be taking out the FearSats. Now FearSat3 is gone."

"Impossible," sputtered Luthor, "those satellites were hidden from every form of detection known to science."

Zatanna and Oracle had come through. I laughed. "But not every form known to magic."

Everyone turned and stared at me. Everyone except the man in the trench coat and hat; he just stood, relaxed and confident.

"No more fear broadcasts, Luthor. People will stop being so afraid, and then they will wonder why they **were** so afraid. Congress won't be so easy to buffalo now. The wheels are starting to come off, Luthor. What are you going to do now?"

Luthor turned to me, his face purple, his eyes bulging. "You! You I **don't** need."

He waved his arm towards the man in the trench coat. Although the five minutes were not quite up yet, I decided it was time to move on to the next phase. I blew out my breath.

With a speed that put a striking cobra to shame, the man in the trench coat knocked Hope out of the way, reached out and clapped his hands in front of me. The Atom's minute, limp form floated to the ground. I looked up.

The man had lost his hat and I stared into the dead, soulless eyes of Captain Marvel.

With a tremendous crash of noise, the Secret Service agents opened fire on Captain Marvel. Everyone else dropped to the floor to avoid being hit by the fire ricocheting off Marvel, but I didn't have the time to worry about survival. I grabbed the ring box and tossed it towards the still open doorway and then flung Ross after it. The ring box disappeared in mid-air.

"Everybody out!" I shouted. "Gypsy's just outside, waiting to save you again. Move!"

I saw Lois yank Lana to a crouch; they both scuttled for the doorway. Already the fire was slackening and I could hear the screams of the Secret Service agents. I grabbed the fountain pen as I passed the desk, then pushed the congressmen towards the doorway. I could see Mercy coming up into a crouch and swinging her gun towards me. Then, with an "umph!" she went sprawling, her gun flying from her hand. Hope was also trying to get back up. I stepped hard on her gun hand as I went by. I heard bones break.

Luthor looked up from the floor. "Don't let Ross get away! Kill the others!"

Marvel caught Ross by the arm before he could disappear into Gypsy's illusion and yanked. Ross grunted with pain as his shoulder came out of his socket and collapsed into a corner of the room. Then the others vanished into Gypsy's illusion and Captain Marvel paused in confusion.

"Marvel!" I yelled and was already squirting ink from the fountain pen as he turned.

My aim was good and he got an eyeful. He roared with pain and swung at me, but I had already jumped out of the way. One of the Secret Service agents – Hirst, I thought, but it was hard to tell in his condition – might survive with prompt medical attention. The others were broken beyond any hope of repair.

Now that the danger of being shot was gone, Luthor was getting to his feet. "He's right in front of you, you idiot!" he bellowed.

I threw myself out of the way even as he was speaking, barely avoiding Marvel as he smashed headlong into a concrete wall. Splinters of concrete flew in all directions. One tore a gash in my side; another nicked my cheek. I picked up a small piece of concrete and bounced it off the opposite wall. Marvel immediately turned and swung a fist, smashing a hole through that wall, as well.

Luthor, with Hope, Mercy, Moon and Ross in tow, was standing in the doorway. As the door closed behind them, he shouted back, "Did you really think I didn't know about the fake ring?"

The door clicked shut as horror froze my insides. My plan had failed; had never had a chance of success. I had to warn the others; and to do that, I had to get past the World's Mightiest Mortal without the aid of body armor, weapons or utility belt.

I smiled grimly. It was a good thing I liked a challenge.


	23. Plan A

Chapter 23: Plan A

All characters are the property of DC Comics. No money is being made on this story and no infringement of copyright is intended.

"Showtime," Oracle announced. "Wonder Woman and Supergirl first."

Supergirl and I nodded and hugged Zatanna. Zatanna called out, "EKAT SU OT NIBOR!"

The closed Catskills resort we had been using as a hideout disappeared in a puff of smoke. When the smoke cleared, we were standing in the middle of a room filled with computers, complex control panels and oversized monitors. One wall looked onto a video recording stage; the other walls were concrete. A beautiful young woman in a suit dress with a very short skirt stood guard near the one door. A serious young man with glasses, suit and tie, and a headset was sitting at an enormous array of controls overlooking the recording studio, a briefcase next to his swivel chair and a laptop open before him. They could be Poli Sci or Law students doing internships at the White House. They looked nothing like Batgirl and Robin.

"What's the situation?" I asked.

Robin shrugged. "Nothing since the five minute warning. Gypsy should be showing up shortly. Until then, we wait."

"Great," snarled Supergirl. "Hurry up and wait. How bureaucratic."

Robin suddenly came to attention in his chair. "You may not have to wait. Gypsy reports they've been attacked by Captain Marvel. Luthor must be controlling him."

"I'll go help out." I was glad to be in my costume this time, with lasso, bracelets and tiara available as weapons; I would need all the advantages I could get against Captain Marvel. "Supergirl, stay here and guard things."

"To hell with that! I'm going with you!"

I sighed in exasperation. I knew she wouldn't follow orders. "Then come. Zatanna…."

"I'll go get the second wave." She gave a semi-salute and disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Robin said, "Go right, then left, then right at the fifth cross corridor. That should get you close enough to home in on the noise of battle."

"Got it." Batgirl opened the door and I flew out, with Supergirl right behind me.

We turned right, then left and then, up ahead, we saw Superman standing at the far end of the corridor, looking off to the right.

Except we both knew it wasn't Superman.

"I'll take him," growled Supergirl, "you go on." She sped ahead, accelerating all the way. The Bizarro turned towards her, but not in time. They collided with an impact that must have shaken the entire complex and smashed backwards through the wall and, by the sound of it, at least one wall beyond. I flew down the corridor after her, but turned right at the fifth intersection. I hated to abandon her, but we both knew the mission came first.

There were no sounds of battle ahead of me. I sped up but the only sounds I heard were distant echoes of the titanic battle behind me. At one intersection, I spotted several HDC soldiers down a side corridor. They were in body armor and armed with plasma rifles and, unfortunately, they spotted me as well. I couldn't leave them behind me to cause trouble for Gypsy and her crew, so I turned down their corridor, dodged their fire, and knocked them out. However, the noise attracted others. I could hear them shouting to each other and sped up to reach Gypsy before the troopers could cut off our retreat.

Back on the right corridor, I could still see or hear nothing except the distant shouting of the HDC troopers and the rumble of thunder that was Supergirl's battle with the Bizarro.

Suddenly, I heard, "Diana!" I pulled up and in front of me materialized Gypsy, Lois, the two congressmen and Lana Lang Ross.

"Thank God!" Gypsy breathed. Her arm was still in a cast, but that didn't seem to slow her down.

"Diana, you've got to get these four to safety. Oh, and this." She tossed me the box containing the ring Batman set such store by.

"What about you?" I asked. I would need both hands free, I suspected, so I slipped the ring on my right ring finger and tossed the box aside.

"I have to go back. Batman is facing Captain Marvel all by himself."

My heart lurched at that. I longed to fly to his rescue. The mission comes first, I reminded myself. He wouldn't thank me for endangering the mission just to save him. I took a breath and nodded.

"I'll be back as soon as I have them safe."

Lana turned to Gypsy. "I'm going with you. Pete is still back there."

"You can't," Lois told her firmly. "You would only be in the way. If you get yourself killed, what is that going to do to Pete?"

"I'm going with her," Lana insisted, but with less force.

"The best thing you can do for you husband," I said, "is to come with me. The sooner we get you to safety, the sooner I can come back and help him."

Lana hesitated, then nodded. Gypsy turned back and disappeared.

"All right," I said, "Lana, you and Lois will have to hold around my neck." They did and I grabbed Connelly and Zabrowski, tucking one under each arm. I lifted off and flew down the corridor.

Soldiers burst out of a side corridor ahead of us. I sped up and screamed "Duck!" at the top of my voice. The soldiers ducked and we zoomed over them. They only got off a few poorly aimed plasma blasts before I turned the corner on the home stretch.

There, not more than twenty yards ahead of us, stood Superman.

I jerked to a stop and dropped the congressmen to free my arms for combat. Lois and Lana slid off my back. Supergirl, I thought, where are you?

As if in answer, a distant boom sounded. I realized she was busy in a different part of the complex, which meant this was a different Bizarro.

I thought of the ring on my finger. It seemed a weak bluff, but I could think of nothing else. I raised my right arm in front of me. The stone blazed with green light.

"Do you know what this is, monster? Flee now or I will destroy you."

The Bizarro stood still. I took a step closer, knowing if I got too close, the bluff would be exposed, but that to back down would be just as fatal.

"Your last chance, monster. I had no feud with you, but I will allow nothing to interfere with my mission."

I heard the soldiers approaching from behind. At any moment, they would round the corner and we would be trapped. I took another step forward.

The Bizarro stepped back.

I stepped forward again and, suddenly, the Bizarro was gone, leaving a red and blue blur behind him.

I turned as the first soldier rounded the corner.

"Hurry!" I cried. "The third door on the left."

The soldier was leveling his gun. I flew back, the others scattering out of my way, and caught the end of the barrel, twisting it just as he fired. The gun exploded in our hands. The soldier cried in pain and my heart told me to succor him, but I could not.

I burst around the corner as the rest of the soldiers approached it. The fight was short and fierce but the surprised soldiers had no chance. I flew back around the corner to see Senator Connelly disappear through the doorway.

I flew through just in time to hear Jason Blood intone, "Vultus Impenetrabilis Contego Inter is Cella. Permissum Nusquam Penetro Obviam Meus Mos." The doorway and walls suddenly glowed with power.

"There," said Jason, wiping the sweat from his brow, "nobody but a powerful mage will get through now."

"Diana, the ring," Robin cried, jumping from his chair, relief evident on his face. Then the look turned to concern. "You're hurt."

I looked down. I was bleeding from a dozen minor wounds; shrapnel from the soldier's gun.

I shook my head. "It's nothing." I pulled the ring from my finger and tossed it to him. He caught it and started prying the stone off.

"What is the deal with that ring?" Zabrowski asked. "It's kryptonite, right?"

Robin answered, "No, it's a fake, but inside is the smallest video camera you'll ever see," the stone popped off and he turned the ring over. A tiny disk fell out and he held it up triumphantly, "and the smallest DVD in the world. Good for five minutes of video. Now, as long as Luthor incriminated himself…."

"Thoroughly," Lois replied. "Batman got him to admit to the entire plot, plus some previous crimes. That was incredibly careless, even for Luthor."

"Perfect. Congress is in session and waiting for a broadcast from the President." He grinned. "They'll get one that will knock their socks off."

He pressed a button on the laptop and a miniature disk drive popped out. He inserted the disk and hit a couple more buttons.

"Let's see what we've got."

The screen of the laptop suddenly went blank, then – one by one – the letters "SUCKER" formed across the screen. Then the laptop switched off.

We all looked at the blank screen.

"It was a plant," Robin whispered, "Luthor knew about the ring all along."

"What do we do now?" asked Batgirl plaintively.

"Go to Plan B," Robin replied automatically, "except…."

"Except?" I prompted.

"There is no Plan B."

Author's Note: The closed Catskill resort is, of course, the former headquarters of Young Justice. In my time line, they only disbanded a matter of days ago. Blood's incantation is in Latin. I created it using a free on-line English-to-Latin translator, so I can't vouch for its accuracy.


	24. Plan B

Chapter 24: Plan B

All characters are the property of DC Comics. No money is being made on this story and no infringement of copyright is intended.

"Let me think, let me think."

Robin put his hands to his temples and held them there as the rest of us held their breath. After a minute, people started getting restless. Then Robin dropped his hands and smiled.

"Yes, that ought to work."

He fiddled with his headset. "O, this is R. We have no video, repeat no video. L planted a Trojan Horse on us."

Faintly, I heard Oracle's voice emerge from the headset speakers. "Shit, kid, what do we do now?"

"I need Z here. N will have to do without her. And tell N that he's on deck. What I've got planned is going to trigger a massive response."

"Got it. Good luck, pipsqueak."

Robin swiveled around to face us. "Okay, what we're going to do is...."

Zatanna appeared in a puff of smoke. She looked tired; the brief rest she had gotten earlier was clearly wearing off. She brushed a loose strand of hair back and tried to smile.

"Somebody call a cab?"

"Zatanna, can you 'poof'," he glanced around the room, doing a tally of some sort, "five people over to where Congress is meeting?"

"First of all, kid, I don't 'poof', I teleport; and second, five people, that's a lot."

"We need you, Zatanna. This is all going to go into the pot if you can't do this."

Zatanna smiled. "I seem to remember Batman saying something very similar. That's what got me into this mess in the first place. Okay, I'll do it, but I won't be good for much afterwards."

"I need you to 'poof' straight back here and then 'poof' Blood and me someplace. That'll be it, I promise."

The strand of hair had come loose again. Zatanna pushed it back impatiently. "I **don't** 'poof', I... oh, forget it. Yeah, I'll do it, but that will **really** be it. I won't have anything left after that."

"Great." He turned back to the rest of us. "Mrs. Ross, Ms. Lane, Congressman, Senator, I need you to go to Congress and tell them what you've seen. Make sure they know what's happening. Then stall the vote as long as possible. There will be one more witness, but it may take me awhile to break him free. Don't let them vote until he gets there."

"My husband," Lana began.

"I'll do what we can for him," I assured her.

"We all will," Robin added, "but if you don't do your part, it won't matter."

Lana nodded. Robin looked at Batgirl. "Your job is keeping them safe. Luthor is bound to have someone planted there against this possibility. I don't know how many there are, I don't know who they are, but you've got to stop them. Understood?"

Batgirl nodded.

"All right, boys and girls," Zatanna called out. "Cluster close around me. Good. STEL OG OT SSERGNOC!"

All six of them disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Robin looked at me. "Diana..."

"I'm going back for Gypsy and Batman."

He nodded as if he had known I would say that. Maybe he had.

"Sorry, Diana," Jason Blood replied. "You can't get out. You aren't a mage and only a powerful mage could get through the shield I threw around this room. I can't drop it for you without leaving the room unprotected. That is a spell that can only be cast once."

"I don't use magic," I told him, "I **am** magic. These," I held up my bracelets, "were forged from the Aegis of Zeus. I think they will protect me even from your magic."

"If you're wrong," Jason protested, "you could die."

"Everyone dies sometime," I told him, "even you. This seems as good a time as any."

Robin pulled out a familiar ring out of a pocket and handed it to me.

"This is the real kryptonite ring. We shouldn't need it with that shield of Blood's, but I suspect you will."

"Thank you."

I stepped up to the doorway and put my hand on the knob. Pain shot up my arm, which felt as if it were reverting to the clay I was formed from. I flung the door open, crossed my wrists before me and stepped through. The pain was indescribable. It shot up my legs, down my arms and reverberated in my head. I could feel my extremities turn back into clay and I took another step while I still could and then another. I wondered how deep this shield was. My legs were melting out from under me but I stumped forward.

And then the pain was gone and I staggered under the sudden release. My limbs were normal once more; I suspected the transformation had been psychological rather than physical. I looked around. There was no one in this corridor, but I could hear numerous voices. I suspected that, once I rounded the corner, I would no longer be alone. I steeled myself and stepped forward.

There were soldiers all up and down the corridor, moving forward by bounds while others covered them from every cross corridor. They opened fire at the sight of me. I crossed my bracelets in front of me, lowered my head and charged down the corridor, bowling over soldiers right and left. A plasma blast tore open my right shoulder; I ignored it. Another set my hair on fire, others bounced off my bracelets and back into the mass of soldiers. Their armor should protect them, I hoped, and if not – it was in the hands of the Fates. I would not stop for anything.

The fire slackened; I was in among the soldiers and the others could not fire without hitting their own men. One man stepped into my path; I backhanded him out of the way. Another tried to grab my foot; I stepped on him. One man fired from behind me, frying a man in front of me and searing my left side with pain. I kept going. Then the fifth cross-corridor opened on either side of me.

I turned left. There were fewer soldiers here and few of the soldiers in the other corridor could fire down it. I took to the air, dodging or deflecting the blasts of those before me with my bracelets. The blasts from behind me were wild and inaccurate. I zoomed down the corridor.

I still didn't know where exactly to find Batman and Gypsy. I concentrated on listening, trying to hear any sign of them over the whine of plasma bolts.

Suddenly, I heard Gypsy call out, "Diana, stop! In here!"

I stopped and looked around. Plasma blasts caromed around me. Where the voice seemed to come from was solid wall. I stepped up to it and then took another step. I went through.

Beyond was a room. There were gaping holes in the walls and what furniture there might have been was in rubble. Near the center of the room, Captain Marvel was flailing around at nothing. Gypsy leaned against a relatively intact wall. There were bodies everywhere, but only one drew my eye. In a corner, in a pool of blood, Bruce lay dying.

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The pounding on the magical shield grew steadily louder. Short range plasma fire or a Bizarro, Robin didn't know. It didn't matter. He finished unrolling the DSL cable and connected it to the laptop. Then he plugged it into one of the computers. He turned the laptop back on.

"Why do that?" asked Jason Blood. "Won't the virus just shut it down again?"

Zatanna, who had been sitting with her head between her knees, looked up.

"Sure, but now it's hooked up to the White House intranet." The laptop screen went blank and the letters "SUCKER" formed across its screen, and across every monitor in the room. Then all the computers turned off.

Robin grinned. "Luthor's virus just shut down every computer in this complex. Including those for the security systems. The White House security force just lost all their sensors. They're blind. And so is Luthor."

He looked at Zatanna. "So, Zatanna, do you have to know where someone is in order to 'poof' over to them?"

Author's Notes: Jason Blood is, of course, the human incarnation of The Demon and is over a thousand years old.


	25. Teleute

Chapter 25: Teleute

All characters are the property of DC Comics. No money is being made on this story and no infringement of copyright is intended.

I stood frozen in place at the sight of Bruce's dying body; my premonition brought to life... or death. All I could think was, not again, not like Donna, not like my mother.

"Quick, Diana, I think he's dying and I can't keep Marvel trapped in an illusion much longer. Not and keep the soldiers out, as well."

Gypsy's words shook me out of my paralysis. I stepped forward... and seemed to step into a dream. Gypsy and Captain Marvel grew insubstantial and suddenly I saw Batman – whole and hale and in costume – standing over Bruce's wisp-like body. Another person stepped into the dream. Her skin was milk-white and she was dressed in a black T-shirt and black jeans. A silver ankh hung around her neck.

Batman seemed to know her. He turned towards her and his hands came up in a warding gesture.

"No," he said, his voice ringing. "I won't let you have them, either of them. Not like Jason. I'll fight you."

The woman smiled softly. "Do we have to go through this again, Bruce? You know you can't fight me. But I'm not here for them."

"Oh," and Bruce did something I would never have believed possible. He lowered his arms and the fight drained out of him. "It's finally time, then?"

"No!" I shouted. "Teleute, goddess, I know you! Even in those clothes, I know you! And I say, you will not have this man! Not while I draw breath!"

Batman turned towards me, as if only just realizing I was there. "Diana, no!" He reached a beseeching hand out towards me. "She'll kill you."

I strode forward, bracelets crossed in front of me. "Not without a fight, she won't!"

Teleute looked sadly at me. "Do you think even Zeus' Aegis can protect you from my touch, daughter of clay?" she asked. "But if you intend to save his life, you must hurry. A fragment of concrete has torn open the axillary artery in his right armpit. He will bleed out in thirty seconds unless you prevent it."

Suddenly, the dream was gone. I looked down on Bruce's body and set to work.

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Congress was in uproar, which made Batgirl's task harder, but she patiently scanned the chamber, looking for any sign, any hint of trouble.

Senator Connelly sat down and the furor caused by his testimony slowly died down. One senator was vigorously waving his arm and the Speaker said, "The Chair recognizes the senior senator from Georgia."

"Thank you, Mr. Speaker. The testimony given by my esteemed colleague is highly disturbing. However, before we act on it, I want to know how we can be sure that he and Representative Zabrowsky have not been brainwashed by the metas. After all, by their own testimony, they have been in the company of metas for over twelve hours. How do we know what they could – or did – do to them in that time? For that matter, we have only Wonder Woman's word for it that her lasso compels truth. How do we know it doesn't compel the person to say what she wants instead? We don't know how long they have been planning...."

Batgirl stopped paying any attention to the speech. That man in the back, dressed as an HDC trooper, his body language signaled nervous anticipation. He was about to do something, something that scared and excited him. Batgirl moved surreptitiously between him and her charges. Then she noticed where his attention was focused. It was not on any of the four she had been ordered to protect; it was on the present speaker, Senator Whatshisname.

She broke instantly into a run, vaulted the railing, did a handstand on the first deck and used her momentum to kick the Senator out of the way as a plasma blast tore through where he had been, and where Batgirl now was.

Pain shot through her body and her limbs burned with agony. In the distance, she could hear someone shout: "Long Live the Metas! Metas ru..." interrupted by more plasma bursts. Then everything went dark.

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The Mad Hatter looked mildly surprised when Robin, Zatanna and Jason Blood appeared before him in a puff of smoke. He said, "A beamish boy! With an Alice in place of a Vorpal Blade. Not my Alice, alas, nor even a blond-haired Alice, but an Alice nonetheless."

Robin tore off his glasses and grabbed the Mad Hatter by his lapels, knocking his huge hat off. "You should recognize me, Tetch, even without the big, bad Bat to keep me company."

Jervis Tetch's eyes widened. "Not a beamish boy, but a birdie. Fly away, little Robin, lest the Jabberwock catch you."

"Shut up, Tetch, and listen closely. You are going to shut off all of your mind-control devices and take us to where Ross and Jakeem Williams are. Or we'll make you very sorry."

Tetch smiled. "Young boys should not make threats they can not keep."

Robin smiled. "Oh, it's not me you need to worry about. It's my other companion." Jason Blood obligingly stepped out from behind Zatanna, where he had been propping her up. She leaned against the wall, taking slow, deep breaths. Blood smiled. Even when he wasn't trying, Blood looked menacing. Now...

"He can be a real demon from Hell when he wants to be," Robin added.

Tetch took one look at Blood and quailed. "Aiiee! The fumious bandersnatch! Flee!"

Since Robin still had a firm grip on his lapels, Tetch's attempt to flee accomplished nothing. "Now," growled Robin.

Tetch glanced at Robin. "Spawn of the Bat, indeed. Very well."

Robin released his hold on Tetch, who turned and started flipping switches on a large control panel covering one side of the small room. Lights on the board started switching from green to red. Shortly, there was not a green light left on the board.

"Done," said Tetch.

"Good, now take us to Ross."

"Alas, I have not been allowed to play with him." Tetch sniffed. "He belongs to the Scarecrow and the Man in the Moon."

"Blast. Where are they located?" Robin asked. Tetch shrugged.

Robin looked at Zatanna. "Oh, no, kid. This cabby's on empty."

Robin nodded. "All right, Tetch, take us to Jakeem Williams."

"Oh," Tetch brightened. "Yes, now there's a beamish boy, indeed! But, alas, his thunder is silenced, his lightning surreal."

"Just take us to him."

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I ripped Bruce's shirt off him and tore it apart. One piece, I folded into a pad and pressed it into the wound. Another, I wound around his shoulder, to hold the pad tight against the torn artery. But, even as I did it, I felt his breath stop, his hear beat grow erratic. I was too late; he had lost too much blood. I could do CPR but, with so little blood left, I knew it would not be enough. He needed more blood, and quickly, to survive.

I remembered what J'onn had said:_ You appear to be type O negative, the universal donor._ _But I got some odd results in the other tests, possibly because of your magical nature. I would recommend you not give blood unless it is absolutely necessary._ It was absolutely necessary now. I popped the invisible plane out from under my thumbnail and willed it into a slender flexible tube, coming to a sharp point at each end. I found the vein on the inside of my left elbow and stuck the point in. Blood slowly filled the tube. I found the vein inside his left elbow and plunged the other point in. My blood surged down the line and into his body.

I let it continue as long as I dared, then pulled the tip out of my elbow. I allowed the last of the blood to drain into him, then pulled the tip out and shrank the invisible plane once more and slipped it under my nail again. I leaned over him. His heartbeat was more regular but he still wasn't breathing. I put a finger in his mouth to check for obstructions and tilted his head to open the airways. Two quick breaths and I checked again. Heartbeat now firm and regular, but still not breathing. Two more breaths. A sudden gasp and he was breathing again. I thanked all the gods and goddesses, even Teleute. I stood and wavered for a moment, dizzy from blood loss. It passed. I turned to Captain Marvel and took my lasso in my hands.

"All right, Gypsy, drop your illusion."

She nodded and relaxed. Captain Marvel blinked, taken momentarily off guard by the sudden change. That was all I needed. I tossed the loop of my lasso over him and pulled it tight.

I expected my lasso of truth to shatter the lies Luthor's cronies had used to enslave him. Instead, I found myself holding on as power surged up and down the lasso. The lies they had fed him were strong and fought back against the truth. They had been using him for months: a spy within the JSA, as Major Disaster had spied on the JLA. Throughout that time, they had built up their control, layer upon layer of lies, powerful lies that had dug deep into his psyche and would not die easily. Something kept feeding him more and more lies as the lasso burned away the existing falsehoods. I poured my power down the lasso and the battle grew ever fiercer. I wondered, momentarily, whether either of us would survive.

Then something exploded. We were thrown apart. I scrambled to my knees and grabbed the end of my lasso. Captain Marvel rubbed his eyes.

"Holy Moley, what happened?"

He met my eyes and I could see he remembered everything. He looked down at his hands. "All those people," he whispered.

"Not... your... fault," grated a familiar voice. I turned and saw Batman, his eyes open and tracking. He looked at me.

"Easier... remove... mind control... device."

I looked at Captain Marvel and saw the blackened spot on his neck where the mind control device had been. I shrugged.

Batman tried to raise himself up on an elbow, then abandoned the attempt. "Atom?" he asked.

A pang of guilt smote me. I had forgotten about him. But how would I ever find him in all this rubble?

Captain Marvel reached down and gently scooped up the Atom's miniature body. "He's still breathing."

I popped my invisible plane out from under my fingernail once more. I carefully lifted the Atom out of Marvel's palm and slipped him into the invisible plane.

Marvel and Gypsy stared at me in bewilderment as the Atom disappeared. "My invisible plane," I explained. "I ordered it to create a life support system for the Atom. He will be safe until we can get him medical treatment."

They both strained forward, trying to see it, without success.

"I didn't know you could make it that small," Captain Marvel said wonderingly.

Batman's voice stopped any further comment. "Find... Ross.... Key." He closed his eyes, temporarily exhausted by the effort.

I looked at Gypsy. "Luthor got away with Pete Ross," she told me.

"I did it," Marvel admitted. "I dislocated his shoulder." He looked around the room at the bodies of the men he had killed and paled.

"Don't dwell on it," I ordered him. "Batman is right: it's not your fault. Instead, we need to concentrate on finding Pete Ross. Legally, he's still President. If we can get him away from Luthor and break his brain washing, he can end this."

"Duck!" shouted Gypsy. Marvel and I ducked as a bolt of plasma passed above us and cratered the far wall.

"The soldiers saw you enter here, Diana, so they know something is fishy. I can make the wall appear solid, but," another plasma bolt splashed against the far wall, "I can't stop plasma fire."

I glanced at a large hole in one wall. "We will move into there," I decided. "Then you can drop the illusion covering the door way and, instead, make the wall look solid."

"What about Batman?" asked Gypsy. We all looked at him. Although clearly doing better than before, he would only be a liability.

"Leave... me."

He was right, Hades take the man. I nodded and looked at the others. "Let's move."

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I didn't have the strength to turn my head and watch the others disappear into the next room, so I watched the door into the hall reappear instead. There was a shout from the HDC soldiers and then they started pouring through the newly rediscovered doorway.

"Sergeant," one of the troopers called, "here's a live one!"

The sergeant stepped over. He was an older man with grizzled hair and a hint of the Orient in his skin and eyes. He looked me over.

"You're lucky to be alive, son," he told me. "Where did the metas go?"

I tried to shake my head, but the effort was too great. "Gone."

The sergeant grimaced, but said, "I don't suppose you were in any shape to take notes. Relax, son, we'll have you in a hospital bed before you know it."

"No...command... center."

"What? Why?"

"Can... help."

"I'm sure you want to..."

I put all the command I could into a whispered, "Now."

The sergeant looked taken aback. Then he laughed. "Well, I can tell you're an officer, or the equivalent. Maybe you can help, after all. I'll see about getting a stretcher for you." The sergeant started to move away.

"Wait."

He stopped and looked back at me.

"Hirst?"

He shook his head. "You're the only person we've found alive. The others are dead. Very dead."

Author's Notes: Teleute is the name Neil Gaiman gave Death in "The Song of Orpheus", which is set in Ancient Greece. It appeared in Sandman Special #1 and is reprinted in the "Fables and Reflections"trade paperback.


	26. Discoveries

Chapter 26: Discoveries

All characters are the property of DC Comics. No money is being made on this story and no infringement of copyright is intended.

Captain Marvel turned to me as we listened to the soldiers entering next door.

"What do we do now?"

"Find Pete Ross."

"But how?" Gypsy asked.

I smiled and held up the invisible plane held it between my fingers. "With my invisible plane."

"We can't fit into that," Gypsy complained.

"We don't have to," I told her. "Invisible plane, locate President Peter Ross and then return here as quickly as possible."

"Acknowledged," came the tiny voice and the plane zipped out of my hand and through the hole in the wall that Gypsy was disguising. The soldiers on the other side, of course, did not notice it.

I turned to the others. "Now we wait."

"It'd better not be for long," warned Gypsy. I nodded. Events were moving rapidly towards a denouement. If we were to influence the outcome, we needed to act quickly.

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The senior senator from Georgia looked up into the concerned gazes of his colleagues.

"What happened? Where am I?"

"Take it easy, Phil, you took a bad spill. And if it hadn't been for that young lady, you'd probably be dead."

The senator's eyes went round. "I would? What young lady?" He got, rather unsteadily to his feet. "This isn't the Capitol."

The others looked nonplussed. The senator absently scratched at the back of his neck. Finding a bump he didn't expect, his fingers – almost of their own volition – dug in and tore off the false skin.

One of his colleagues noticed. "Hey! That looks like the mind control device they found on the dead HDC soldier!"

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The Mad Hatter led Robin, Zatanna and Jason Blood into an adjacent room. In a corner, on a stool and wearing a tall dunce's cap, Jakeem Williams was staring at a pen filled with pink phosphorescent ink and muttering, over and over again, "Say you, say you."

He saw the Mad Hatter and jumped up from the stool, knocking his hat off in the process. "What did you do to me, you #&$?" he demanded.

The Mad Hatter took a step back. Robin grabbed Jakeem by the shoulder before he could throw himself at the Mad Hatter. "Calm down, Jakeem."

"You don't understand. The last thing I remember is this ##$& putting this silly hat on me and now the Thunderbolt won't listen to me."

"Listen to me: Antiestablishmentarian Goodfellows."

"What the #$? Hey, what's the matter with me? I've been using his old name, not his new one! So cool!"

The Thunderbolt leaped out of the pen. "Hey, Jakeem, what kept you?"

"#$ if I know. You see that $##er?" He pointed at the Mad Hatter. "I want you to ..."

"Wait!" Robin jumped in front of Jakeem. "We have more important things to do. We need the Thunderbolt to find President Ross and bring him here."

"President Ross? What happened to President **Luthor**?"

"It's a long story. Will you please tell him to get Ross?"

Jakeem looked mutinous, but said, "Ah, #$, sure, go do it Johnny."

In a flash of pink lightning, the Thunderbolt vanished. The Mad Hatter looked around nervously. "We must flee," he stated, "ere the Jabberwock returns." Everyone ignored him.

Zatanna turned to Robin. "So Batman didn't steal away the Thunderbolt?"

Robin shook his head. "No, he planted a post-hypnotic suggestion which could be triggered remotely through a subcutaneous receiver. Oracle triggered it when Jakeem went missing."

Jakeem looked indignant. "You mean Batman and Oracle did this to me? I'm going to take those two #$#'s and ...."

"I wouldn't advise it," Robin told him. "Either one could take you and your Thunderbolt apart, if they really wanted to. And you would have been Luthor's puppet if they hadn't."

"Luthor? I thought Ross was president now?"

"It's a long story, Jakeem."

"A story," said the Mad Hatter anxiously, "best told elsewhere. We should be gone ere the Jabberwock appears."

"Who is this Jabberwock character he keeps talking about?" demanded Jakeem.

"I believe he means me," a familiar, mocking voice said from behind them.

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I opened my eyes as they set my stretcher down. The pain was less and I felt better for my short rest. I turned my head and saw that I was indeed in a command center of some sort, although all the monitor screens were black. A man stepped over in front of me.

"I'm John Jones, Secret Service."

I looked up at him in surprise but, no, J'onn was still back in Atlantis, trying to convince his body to stay together.

"Paul Ramirez, FBI." My voice was stronger, steadier. I didn't think I could get up off the stretcher without help, but that was still something.

"I understand you think you can help."

I nodded. "They have a Luthor clone."

Jones' eyebrows shot up at that. "You sure?"

"It looked like Luthor, talked like Luthor, could walk without assistance, although it had bandages on its chest where Luthor was burned. The real Luthor is still confined to a hospital bed, isn't he?"

"Yes. I'm in touch with his guards via walkie-talkie."

"Walkie-talkie?"

"All internal communications and security systems are down. Hell, everything connected to a computer is down."

That wasn't part of the plan. Neat trick, though.

"We tried," Jones continued, "doing a complete reboot of the entire system, reformatting all the hard drives and then reloading key software. But the virus just shut things down again. It must be on some computer we don't control that's been tied into the network. Every time we restart, it just loads itself into the system. Until we find and isolate that computer, we're stuck."

Suddenly, things clicked into place. Luthor must have planted a virus on the fake videodisc. That would be in character for him. Then Robin must have used his laptop to infect the White House computer network with it. Smart boy.

Jones had moved on to other things. "If they have a Luthor clone, maybe is whole thing is a set-up. They create a crisis to force the passage of the Emergency Powers Act. Then they set their clone up as puppet ruler of the United States."

I smiled. He had got it in one, even if he was mistaken about who 'they' were.

Jones looked at me. "What metas did you see with the clone?"

Sorry Superman, I thought, but if there are any Bizarros around, I have to implicate you. "Superman, Mad Hatter, Scarecrow, Dr. Moon."

"Not Wonder Woman?" he asked sharply. "She was reported to have entered that room."

"Didn't see her," I lied, "but I wasn't tracking too well towards the end."

"Hmm. I need our security systems up! We're running around blind!" He looked at me again. "There's some sort of ... force field ... around the broadcast control room. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

I shook my head. "But I could take a look at it. I've seen a few strange things in my career. Maybe I'll recognize something about it."

Jones hesitated, then shrugged. "Sure, why not? Most of these HDC troopers are doing nothing useful, anyway. A couple of them can carry you over there. Take a walkie-talkie."

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The miniature invisible plane returned.

"It has found Pete Ross!" I told the others. "Gypsy, since the corridors are teaming with soldiers, you will have to hide us. I will carry you and Captain Marvel will follow close behind."

They both nodded. I picked up Gypsy and we started out.

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The Thunderbot returned, carrying the President of the United States. He lowered Ross to the ground and looked at the limp bodies on the floor, then over to the corner where Jakeem Williams sat.

"What happened to them, Jakeem? And why do you have that silly hat on?"

Jakeem turned his dead, soulless eyes on the Thunderbolt and intoned, "So Cool."

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The invisible plane guided us to a room containing a great deal of medical equipment with an examination couch (fitted with restraints) in the center. The Scarecrow and Dr. Moon were standing around the table, looking stunned. There was no sign of Pete Ross.

I pulled out my lasso and dropped a loop over the Scarecrow. "Was President Ross here?"

He nodded. "Until a moment ago. Then there was a flash of pink lightning," he giggled, "and he disappeared."

"That's the Thunderbolt," Captain Marvel informed us.

I nodded. "This is either very good news or very bad."

"In either case," Captain Marvel replied, "I see no point in leaving these villains conscious to cause more trouble." He reached out a hand towards Dr. Moon and, with a flick of a finger, knocked him out cold. I applied a nerve pinch to the Scarecrow and he dropped like a ton of bricks.

"Locate Jakeem Williams," I told the invisible plane, "and lead us to him."

Author's Notes: The Mad Hatter's victims are generally shown as having no memory of what they did while under his control. Jakeem Williams controls the Thunderbolt by saying its name backwards. Since the name consists solely of consonants, vowels can be randomly inserted without causing problems. In the "Justice For All" trade paperback, the original Thunderbolt merged with another of its kind, so its backwards name changed from "Say you" to "So cool". Jakeem had a foul mouth in "Justice For All". That pretty much disappeared when he joined the JSA, but I thought he might revert under stress.


	27. A Problem

Chapter 27: A Problem

All characters are the property of DC Comics. No money is being made on this story and no infringement of copyright is intended.

Bam! Bam! Bam! The Speaker of the House cried out, over the noise and confusion, "Mrs. Ross, you are out of order!"

"No," shouted Lana, "it's this Congress that is out of order! Call things what they really are! It's not the metas that are on trial here. There have always been evil metas. It's the Super-heroes! Some are metas and some – like that girl who sacrificed herself to save you, Senator – have no special powers to help them. What they have in common is their willingness to risk their lives, and even lose them, to protect all of us – metas and non-metas alike.

"You want the facts? I'll give them to you! I've been there, in the Luthor White House, from Day One and I have seen what's been happening. I'll tell you just what our dear President has been up to. I'll…."

A deep boom! echoed through the chamber.

Lana looked around, suddenly fearful. "What was that?"

The FBI, Secret Service and HDC people came to alert, tense and expectant. One called out, "We're under attack! The metas have returned!"

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The stretcher bearers set me down in front of the doorway. One of them grabbed me under the shoulder (the left one, fortunately) and hauled me to my feet. I shook him off and wobbled. I steadied myself with a hand of the door frame and studied the sight before me. The door was open; the doorway was filled with a constantly shifting pattern of colored light. The center of it swirled red then calmed down to a translucent yellow-green. Now I could barely make out the room beyond. It looked deserted.

Tentatively, I touched the colored light with a fingertip. Excruciating pain shot up my arm and, reflexively, I jerked my hand back. But pain and I are old acquaintances. I deliberately leaned forward and pushed my palm deep into the light.

I left it in for as long as I could stand it and then slowly pulled it out. It had felt as if my hand had been consumed by fire until the flesh was burned away and even the bones crumbled into dust. But I could discern no damage at all, except a residual pain that slowly died away. Satisfied, I turned to the two dumb-founded soldiers.

"It is a magical barrier," I told them truthfully. "I've encountered such things on occasion in the past."

"There really is such a thing as magic?" asked the corporal doubtfully. "I always thought it was faked or, you know, one of those meta powers."

"Well, if it looks like a duck and quakes like a duck…." I thoughtlessly shrugged and then winced as pain shot through my shoulder.

I pushed the pain back down and continued. "I suppose you could call this an illusion, if you want. It makes you feel like you're being burned alive but," I held up my hand, "as you can see, it doesn't actually do any damage."

"You mean it can't really hurt you?"

"Sure it can, but only if you let it. If you think it's killing you, then it will. These things are powered by the magician's will. It's basically their will power against yours." I smiled. "And I have beau coup will power."

Of course, I thought, Jason Blood has another source of power he could tap: the demon Etrigan, who was trapped inside his body. I pushed this thought away. What I needed was on the other side of the barrier, and I was willing to pit my will power against even a Demon from Hell to get at it.

"But, sir, you can't even stand unassisted," protested the other soldier.

"I'll make sure to fall forward, then," I told him. Before they could think up further objections, I turned and stepped into the barrier.

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We zipped down the corridors, just above the heads of the soldiers who prowled along them, guns at ready and nerves at hair-trigger. Some heard the soft-pitched whine of the miniature invisible plane and others felt the air move as we passed overhead. But the invisible plane was invisible and Gypsy's illusion held. When they looked up, they saw nothing.

The plane took us to an elevator. It was not working, but one blow from Captain Marvel made a hole in its floor large enough for us to pass through. If the noise drew the attention of any nearby soldiers, we were gone before they arrived.

On the bottom-most floor, we saw no soldiers, just long white, sterile corridors. The silence, however, was occasionally broken by a deep rumbling boom, reminding us of the fighting not far away. The occasional doors off the corridors were all made of tempered steel. I was reminded of the prison cell back in the clone factory and wondered what evils might be hidden behind those doors.

The corridor the invisible plane led us to was at least one hundred yards long. It dead-ended in a concrete wall.

We set down in front of it.

"The invisible plane," I told my comrades, "tells me Pete Ross is in a room on the other side of this wall. It got in through a ventilation duct, but the shafts are too small for any of us and it has been unable to find a door."

"I'll fix that," Captain Marvel announced, and swung his fist. For a split second I had to move fast to deflect concrete splinters away from Gypsy and me.

"The invisible plane also tells me," I added dryly as Captain Marvel stared in dismay at the still standing wall and the foot deep crater he had created, "that the wall is steel-reinforced concrete over three feet thick." And, I thought to myself, whoever is on the other side knows we're here now.

Marvel glanced back down the corridor. His brow lowered with determination. "Come on," he said and headed back down the corridor.

Afraid I knew what he intended, I grabbed Gypsy under her arms and flew after him.

"Marvel," I started when we joined him at the far end of the corridor, but I was too late. With the speed of Mercury, he was off down the corridor, flying faster and faster until he hit the wall with an impact that shook the underground base like an earthquake.

I helped Gypsy to her feet and looked down the corridor. The far wall no longer existed, replaced by a gaping hole over six feet across. Then my eyes widened and I jerked Gypsy out of the way.

She hissed in pain as her cast banged against the wall next to me, then Captain Marvel flew past us and embedded himself two feet deep in the wall behind us. He was clearly unconscious.

Someone looked out of the gaping hole in the wall, a hundred yards away. It was a man wearing an old-fashioned, double-breasted suit with a bow tie; a slightly odd apparition made far more so by being entirely pink and crackling with pink energy. It was Jakeem's Thunderbolt, a magical creature of almost unlimited power.

"Well?" called a familiar voice. "Are there any others?"

The Thunderbolt looked like he had eaten something sour, but obediently glanced down the corridor, right past us. "No, Boss," he replied and disappeared back through the hole.

I looked at Gypsy. Even through her pain, she had had enough presence of mind to hide us with an illusion. She looked back at me.

"I think we're in trouble," she whispered.

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I woke up face down on the floor. My jaw hurt and the gnawing pain in my right arm pit remained, but these were nothing compared to the indescribable agony filling my left foot. Reflexively, I jerked it towards me and the pain slowly faded away. I hoped Diana was doing better than I was. After a moment, I gathered my strength and rolled over. Just beyond my feet I could see the swirling color of the barrier. I couldn't remember anything after stepping into it. Evidently, I had – as I had told the soldier – fallen forward through the barrier. All except my left foot. I didn't think it would hold my weight – and I lacked the strength to stand, in any case – so I rolled back onto the stomach and crawled forward.

Once I reached a chair, I pulled myself up and fell into it. I spent the next minute or two gasping for breath and then looked around. It was much as I had expected. A few feet away, resting on one of the control panels, was Tim's laptop, with a DSL line leading off behind one of the consoles. On the ground nearby was the briefcase he had brought along.

Fortunately, the chair was on castors and the carpeting wasn't too thick: I was able to push my way over to the laptop. I unplugged the DSL line and yanked out the hard drive and tossed it aside. I reached into the briefcase and pulled out a spare hard drive and a headset. I popped in the new hard drive, booted up the laptop and plugged in the headset.

"O, come in."

"B! Is that you? We thought you were …." Whatever they thought, Oracle decided it was best left unsaid.

"Status report."

"I have no communications with anyone inside the complex. The video was a plant."

"I know. R infected the White House intranet with the virus on it."

"Did he? Smart kid. At last report, R was taking Z and JB to track down some hard evidence. He sent the rest to Congress to buy some time. Oh, except W and G, they went looking for you."

"And found me. What's N's status?"

"He's fighting off a new and improved fake JLA. I alerted all the networks in advance, as we planned, and they were in position when the attack started. All major TV channels are filled with live footage of our guys fighting to protect Congress. That should put a spoke in L's wheel. Make Congress stop and think, at least."

"Good, but not enough. I need to know what's going on inside, and that means we need control of the White House surveillance system."

"And how are we supposed to accomplish that?" asked Oracle waspishly.

Although she couldn't see it, I grinned wolfishly. "Once I tell them I've found the source of the virus, they'll going to do a complete reboot. Reformat the hard drives to get rid of any copies of the virus and then reload key software. If you sneak in after they've gotten rid of the virus and before they load the firewall…."

"I'll own that system!" crowed Oracle.

"I can monitor the process from here. It'll require split-second timing, though; too soon and the virus will infect your system; too late and you'll bounce off the firewall."

"Don't try to teach your Grandma to suck eggs, B. I'm setting up the programs now. You hook me up and in a hundred milliseconds – 150 tops – I'll have that system locked down under my control."

"Then run a search program through the surveillance system. R has been out of touch too long and I need to know what L is up to."

"Whenever you're ready, B-man. I'm set."

I pulled out the walkie-talkie and thumbed the on-switch. "Jones, this is Ramirez."

"Ramirez! What have you got for me?"

"I found the source of the virus; a laptop hooked into the network. I've disconnected it. Your reboot should work now."

"You… damn, I never thought you'd actually manage it. Great job, man."

"Thanks, now you get YOUR job done."

"On it. Jones out."

I turned to look at the bank of monitors in front of me. Suddenly, there was a hum of power and they all came on at once, still black except for the scroll of numbers at the top as they completed a memory check. Then, almost faster than I could see, the commands started scrolling across the screens. I picked up the DSL line with one hand, the other finding by feel the port it connected to.

The commands slowed to a stop as the hard drives suddenly powered up. Reformatting a hard drive is a physical operation and takes time, but once it was done I had to connect quickly, before the firewall could be loaded.

There! Almost before I realized it, the commands started scrolling down again and my hands had made the connection without waiting for my conscious mind to order it. Because I was looking for it, I saw Barbara's programs kick in. Her modified firewall program, with a backdoor written into it, was written to disc while the original firewall was consigned to oblivion. I doubted anyone else would have noticed and now a steady stream of false information showed that everything was happening as it should while Barbara took over complete control of every system on the network.

"Done!" There was no mistaking the triumph in her voice.

Suddenly, the monitors started showing views from surveillance cameras throughout the White House and the subterranean complex below it, image following image faster than the eye could follow. But not faster than Barbara's search programs could follow.

In less than a minute, one screen steadied with the image of Supergirl locked in hand-to-hand combat with a Bizarro. Then, a second monitor locked on a view of Captain Marvel embedded in a concrete wall. A single glance was enough to tell me he was unconscious, or worse.

Seconds later, a third camera showed an image of the Thunderbolt, standing at the elbow of a man in an oversized green armored suit. The armor was unfamiliar, but the face was not. It was Luthor. Around them slumped the bodies of Robin, Zatanna, the Mad Hatter, Pete Ross and Jason Blood, while in the background, wearing a dunce's hat and looking barely conscious, sat Jakeem Williams. Somehow, Luthor had broken through the block I had placed in Williams' mind and gained control of the Thunderbolt.

In my ear, Barbara whispered, "Houston, we have a problem."

Author's Note: Yeah, I stole the armor idea from Jeph Loeb, who stole it from the pre-Crisis Luthor. So?


	28. Thunder and Brimstone

Chapter 28: Thunder and Brimstone

All characters are the property of DC Comics. No money is being made on this story and no infringement of copyright is intended.

"Houston, we have a problem."

I stared at the monitor screen. How could this have happened? How could Luthor have gotten control of the Thunderbolt? I had planned so carefully to avoid this very thing.

"B," Barbara's voice was suddenly excited. "Look at Jakeem."

I tore my glance away from the Thunderbolt and looked at Jakeem. Or rather the hat that seemed to be lifting itself off of his head.

Gypsy.

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I stood next to Gypsy and watched the Thunderbolt as she lifted the hat carefully from Jakeem's head. Her illusion appeared to be holding but I was sure that, if his interest were sufficiently aroused, the Thunderbolt could see through it. For now, though, his attention was on Luthor and Luthor's attention was on the control panel in front of him.

"Jakeem," Gypsy whispered, "wake up. Wake up and call off the Thunderbolt."

I glanced back at them. Gypsy had the Mad Hatter's hat off Jakeem, but still he lolled back in his seat, his eyes unfocused.

Jakeem," whispered Gypsy again, her whisper a little louder, her voice a little higher. She dropped the hat and shook his shoulder instead. Nothing.

I turned my back on the Thunderbolt. If we could not rouse Jakeem, it did not matter whether the illusion held or not. I grabbed both his shoulders and shook him sharply. "Jakeem," I hissed in his ear. Nothing.

"What are we going to do now?" asked Gypsy, a note of panic in her voice.

I steadied Jakeem's head with one hand and peeled back an eyelid with the other. "Drugged."

"Of course," Luthor answered behind me. We both turned around. Luthor smiled gloatingly. The Thunderbolt looked distraught.

"You think I didn't anticipate this little ploy? I drugged him as soon as he had ordered the Thunderbolt to obey me. You've wasted your time, not that you ever had a chance of stopping me. Now, I need to get the other mind control devices working again and you two are a distraction. So," he turned to the Thunderbolt, "kill them."

"No!" cried Gypsy, straightening and staring at the Thunderbolt.

The Thunderbolt screamed.

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"My God," Barbara whispered as we watched the Thunderbolt grab his head and scream, "I never dreamed she had such power. Did you?"

"Yes. But she can't hold him for long. Oracle I need to talk to them."

"Gypsy doesn't have a communicator; I wasn't sure she could sneak it through White House security. Although after this display ..." the Thunderbolt was still screaming, "... Diana has one, however. Give me a second ... okay, you're connected."

"Wonder Woman, can you hear me?"

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Luthor stared for a moment at the screaming Thunderbolt, then turned angry eyes on Gypsy and raised his hand, palm outward. I stepped between them and brought up my arms. The energy bolt ricocheted off my crossed bracelets, knocking me backwards and blasting a hole in the ceiling. I bounced off the wall, hard, momentarily dazed by the power of the blow. I stretched out my arms along the wall, propping myself up. My hand brushed against Jakeem's shoulder.

I heard Luthor shout at the Thunderbolt, "Quit yelling and kill them! You're supposed to be this all-powerful being and you're afraid of a simple **illusion**?" He turned back towards Gypsy and raised his hand again. I dumped Jakeem off the stool and threw it at Luthor. He twitched his arm and blew it to pieces, but I dodged under the blast.

"Wonder Woman, can you hear me?" The sound of Bruce's voice gave wings to my heart, but the timing couldn't be worse.

"Not now," I grated as I slammed my fist up into Luthor's chest, sending him back into his control panel.

"It's important. Toss your communicator to Gypsy, now!"

"She's bus...." The screaming stopped. I turned involuntarily to look at the Thunderbolt. He looked much larger than before and the pink energy crackled and pulsed all around him. He looked ... upset.

"Do it! Oracle will distract the Thunderbolt."

"Me?" squeaked Barbara's voice in my ear. "How?"

"Improvise!"

I ripped the plug out of my ear and tossed it. "Gypsy! Catch!"

Gypsy, who had been staring up in fright at the Thunderbolt, started and grabbed the communicator out of the air. Then I turned back to Luthor. He was pulling himself out of the shattered remains of the control panel. So much for his mind control devices. I leapt forward and slammed him back into the wall behind.

His return blow nearly took my head off and knocked me sideways. I went partly through the hole in the wall and partly through the wall itself and landed in the corridor beyond. I wiped a trickle of blood from my cheek. I looked at Luthor and started chanting.

"Change, change, o form of man..."

Luthor, who had been raising his hand to fire another energy bolt, stopped, curious in spite of himself.

"... Rise, the Demon Etrigan!"

Luthor crooked an eyebrow. "Devil Worship, Wonder Woman? I would never have guessed it of you. I would say it makes think better of you; but the truth is, I have always ...."

Paying no attention to Luthor, I glanced beyond him into the room. It was a gamble: I did not know if the incantation would work while Jason Blood was unconscious, or whether Etrigan could shake off the effect of the blow that had felled Blood. What I saw caused me to grin in triumph. Luthor paused at the sight of my smile.

Behind him, a bulky yellow figure growled:

"Tell me mortal, if you know,

Who it was did lay me low?"

"He did!" I shouted and dodged as a gout of flame enveloped Luthor. He cried out in agony. No merely physical armor could protect against demon-fire.

"You look like a man I'd normally like,

But you find me much too full of spite."

With that he knocked Luthor through the hole and half way down the corridor.

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Gypsy stood, holding the communicator plug in her hand and looking as if she had no idea what to do with it.

"Put it in your ear," I yelled, hoping she could hear me. In the background, I could hear Oracle's voice over the public address system, echoing in the room with Gypsy.

"_Johnny Thunderbolt!_" Her voice resonated, throbbing with power, and Gypsy jerked out of her stupor and put the communicator plug in her ear.

In the background, Oracle continued, "_You are a prince of the 5th Dimension! _In fact," her voice got more normal, "you are two princes! And the spirit of a superhero! How can you let Luthor boss you around like that? He's not the seventh son of a seventh son. You're breaking your own rules!"

I focused on Gypsy, filtering out the Thunderbolt's response. "Gypsy, you need to get through to Jakeem, tell him to call off the Thunderbolt."

"But he's drugged. He can't hear me!"

"You have to reach his mind with your power."

"I'm not a telepath, Batman. I just do illusions."

"Do you remember when we first met? You knew I was an orphan, even though Aquaman and J'onn would never have told you. And when we fought Despero, remember? You knew exactly what sort of illusion to throw at him, even though he was an alien and you knew nothing at all about him. You always know what illusion to use on someone, because you pull it out of their mind. You **are** a telepath, Gypsy and you have to use that ability now or we're all dead and Luthor wins."

"But... but, I don't know how!"

"Create an illusion; one where Jakeem is conscious and can hear you."

"I'll, I'll try."

She closed her eyes and I bit back further arguments. Now, I heard Barbara talking once more.

"Yes, but is the authority transitive?"

"Transi... what?"

"You have to obey him, but can he pass that authority on to another? And for how long? You know Luthor intends to boss you around for the rest of eternity. How is that different from obeying someone other than Jakeem in the first place? Either way, it seems to me you're breaking the rules you set for yourself."

"I don't know... I'll have to check." Suddenly a huge pink volume appeared in the Thunderbolt's hands, labeled 'Genie Law'. He started thumbing through it.

"Jon...ee."

The Thunderbolt dropped the tome and zipped across the room and stood over the sprawled body of Jakeem Williams. Jakeem's eyes were unfocused but his mouth no longer looked quite so slack.

"Jakeem! Jakeem, I don't know what to do. You got to tell me what to do."

"Doan ... 'bey ... 'im."

"What? Don't obey him? Is that what you said? Don't obey Luthor?"

But Jakeem's mouth had gone slack again and his eyes rolled back into his head. The pink phosphorescent pen that was the Thunderbolt's home fell from his limp fingers.

"Jakeem? I don't know what to do. You've got to tell me. Jakeem? JAKEEM!?!" The Thunderbolt's form seemed to expand to fill the room. Then, in a burst of pink light, he vanished. The pen glowed violently pink; then the glow subsided.

"Coward," I muttered. Still, having the Thunderbolt hide in his pen was far better than the situation of a few minutes ago.

"Batman," called Gypsy unsteadily, "Batman, I think we did it."

"Indeed." Luthor's voice shook us all from our dazed relief. He stood in the opening blasted in the wall, dragging an unconscious Diana behind him by her hair. I glanced at another monitor and saw Etrigan's smoking body in the corridor.

Luthor's blast caught Gypsy before she could hide herself, slamming her body against the wall. She collapsed.

"Give it up, Luthor!" Oracle's voice resounded through the room. "The other heroes have defeated your fake JLA, on national TV no less, and Lana Ross has been giving Congress chapter and verse on all your shady dealings since the day you entered the White House. She's more observant and knowledgeable than, I think, any of us gave her credit for. I don't think they needed the video from the surveillance cameras I've been sending them; that was just icing on the cake. You're finished. Don't make things worse for yourself."

Luthor started at this. "I'm still President," he began.

"Wrong," I interrupted, "Section 4 of the 25th Amendment, remember? You were found to be unable to discharge the office due to your wounds. Until you inform Congress otherwise, in writing, you're not President; Ross is."

Oracle continued, "And the only communication you're going to allowed with Congress is to answer the Articles of Impeachment that have been brought against you. Don't add to them by doing something stupid, Luthor."

"Stupid? STUPID!?!" He pulled Diana's unconscious body up in front of him with one hand and put the other palm against her temple. "I may be finished, but I'm not going down by myself. I know who masterminded this. Batman, you've got five minutes to get down here or I start killing them one at a time, beginning with Wonder Woman."

He pointed his palm at the surveillance camera. There was a flash of light and the monitor went dark. A moment later, the monitor in the corridor went dark as well.

I thought furiously. "O, this is what I need you to do."

She listened and said, "On it, B. You be careful."

Although she couldn't see it, I nodded. I stood up, wobbled for a moment, then stepped over to the doorway. I raised my hands and said, "Venificus Contego Genitus".

The magical barrier vanished. The grimoire had been right: it didn't take a sorcerer to undo the spell; anyone could, as long as you were inside the barrier.

On the other side of the doorway stood John Jones and a dozen heavily armed soldiers. He looked grim.

"Batman, huh? I should have known. You're too capable to be FBI."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Your computer friend was kind enough to allow us to share access to our own surveillance cameras. I saw the whole scene."

"Then you know that he'll start killing people if I don't get down there. One of them is President Ross."

Jones looked even grimmer. "So that's the real Lex Luthor down there? And the one we've been guarding in the hospital bed is the clone?"

"The doctors accepted the one in the hospital bed as Lex Luthor," I told him, choosing my words with care. "Until they inform you otherwise, we have to assume the one making the threats is the imposter."

Jones snorted. "I doubt they thought to check whether he was a clone," he snapped, but he looked a little happier. "All right, I have to help you, whether I like it or not. I can supply you with just about any weapon you want, except a batarang."

I shook my head.

"Well, what can I do for you?"

I told him. He looked puzzled.

"You think that will help?"

I didn't answer and he shrugged. "All right. Johnson, get him what he asked for. Meet us at the south elevator." A Secret Service woman nodded and disappeared.

Jones looked me over. "I doubt that you can make it there on your own in," he checked his watch, "four minutes, ten seconds. Andrews, carry him."

Before I could protest, a large black agent threw me over his shoulders in a fireman's carry.

"All right. Let's go."

Author's Note: I have been waiting to use that bit about Batman and Gypsy since they first met in JLA #250 (first series). I think the author, Gerry Conway, intended something like this, but JLA was cancelled less than a year later, and it was forgotten. The spirit of Johnny Thunder, the previous master of the Thunderbolt, merged with the Thunderbolt in the trade paperback, "Stealing Thunder". The bit about the 25th Amendment is true, in case you were wondering.


	29. Final Showdown

Chapter 29: Final Showdown

All characters are the property of DC Comics. No money is being made on this story and no infringement of copyright is intended.

I entered the elevator, being careful to step around the hole in the floor and glancing up to check that the emergency hatch was open. I hit the button for the lowermost floor and, as the doors closed, caught a last look at Jones' worried face.

As the elevator descended, I used the Swiss army knife Jones had provided to pop open the control panel. I pulled out a pair of wires and used the knife to cut them and strip off the insulation. As the elevator came to a stop, I crossed the wires.

The door opened. I dropped the wires, making sure they didn't accidentally touch. The door would stay open, now.

I stepped out into the corridor. There was no one in sight.

"Left," Oracle whispered, unnecessarily, into my ear. Clutching the knife in my hand, I turned left. At the second intersection, I turned right.

"All the cameras are gone beyond this point," warned Oracle. "From here on out, I'm blind."

I nodded and continued. At a turn in the corridor was a sight that caused me to speed up to a lurching trot. I was winded by the time I got there, although it was only twenty yards. I had to put a hand on the wall to support me while I stared at Captain Marvel's body, embedded spread-eagle in the wall.

"He's still alive," Luthor informed me, "for now."

I turned and looked down a corridor a hundred yards long, with a hole more than six feet across at the far end. Halfway down the corridor stood Luthor in his armored suit. He still held Diana in front of him, with one palm against her temple. Beyond, I saw Etrigan's smoking body.

Luthor looked me over carefully. "Lose the headset," he ordered.

"Two minutes, mark," I murmured to Oracle. I removed the headset and dropped it.

"Smash it." I stamped down with my foot and headset shattered.

"Now show me what you're hiding in your hand." I opened my hand.

"A Swiss army knife?" he hooted. "You thought you could stop me with a Swiss army knife? I expected better of you, Batman."

I smiled grimly. "I didn't figure I'd need much. Your muscle is melting away, Luthor. You had Marvel, and lost him. You had the Thunderbolt, and lost him. You had your Bizarros, but – as soon as the mind control system was smashed and they could think for themselves – you lost them, too. All that's left are some Bizarro-shaped holes in the White House roof. There's just you, now, and – for all your fancy armor – you're no fighter."

Luthor scowled. "In my 'fancy armor', I'm more powerful than Superman."

I shrugged. "You've got me, Luthor; let the others go."

He just smiled. "I never said anything about letting them go. After I kill you, I'll kill them too and make my escape. I could fight my way through the troops and any super heroes gathered above, but I won't need to. There is a secret escape route leading off of this level. I have plenty of money hidden aboard. With it, I can make my comeback."

I started laughing. Luthor's expression got blacker and blacker. "You were a fool to ever trust Talia, Lex. She's had years to spy out all of your secrets. As soon as the crisis broke and you were too busy to notice, she started taking over your accounts. She knew how it would turn out; everybody did. You're a loser, Lex, you always have been, and now you're a POOR loser!"

I didn't know that, of course; I had been busy myself. But I must have sounded convincing. Luthor's eyes narrowed. "I have hated you since No Man's Land," he purred. "This is going to be very satisfying." He let go of Diana and she slumped to the ground. He raised his arm, his palm pointed at me. "Say good-bye, Batman."

BAM! Right on schedule, the dynamite charge went off on the floor above. Not enough to cause the ceiling to collapse, but more than enough to pull Luthor's attention away from me. I reached into my pocket, grabbed a handful of 'flash-bangs' and tossed them at Luthor. Then I dropped to the floor.

I had cut it close. Luthor's energy bolt went just over my head, catching and setting off the 'flash-bangs'. They lived up to their name. They couldn't hurt Luthor, but they could momentarily blind and distract him, and that was enough.

The shockwave of her passage slammed me to the floor. She was supersonic at that point: her shout of "LUTHOR!" trailed behind her. The shock of her impact slammed me back down again.

Luthor was knocked back through the wall; shards of concrete tore at my scalp and back. I staggered to my feet. Through the new hole in the far wall, I caught a glimpse of the battle. Supergirl was pummeling Luthor with a speed and ferocity that was keeping him off balance. That would not last.

I made it to my feet and staggered over to Diana. I pulled out the hypospray and jabbed it against her arm.

"Come on, come on," I muttered. "Supergirl can't do it by herself. Wake up, Diana, I need you."

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"Wake up, Diana, I need you."

The words penetrated the fog in my brain. Bruce was calling me, he needed me. I struggled upwards through the darkness and, with a tremendous effort, opened my eyes. But the man bent over me was not Bruce or Batman. It was a stranger, his face bloody and unfamiliar. Where was Bruce? Then I remembered: he was in disguise.

"Batman?"

"Supergirl needs you, Diana. She can't hold off Luthor alone. She needs your help."

It all rushed back to me, then: Luthor in his armor, handily defeating Etrigan and me. And Supergirl was facing him alone?

I clambered to my feet, then nearly fell over. Bruce caught my arm and kept me upright. I leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths, and willed the dizziness to pass. After a moment, I pushed myself erect.

"Where?" Bruce pointed to a wall with two large holes in it. I nodded and stepped towards it. I didn't stumble this time. I took another step. And another. My strength returned, bit by bit, with each step. I climbed through one of the holes and took in the sight before me.

Supergirl was using her speed and flying ability to dodge Luthor's blows, then close and strike. But, although she was hitting Luthor two or three times for every blow she took, it was clear she was getting the worst of it. I ducked as an energy bolt sizzled past me, then winced as a backhand blow caught her squarely in the chest. Supergirl was smashed back against the wall; but she held onto his arm and turned Luthor's momentum against him, smashing him against the wall, in turn. Still holding on, she swung him back through a half circle and into the wall on the other side of her.

All of which did more damage to the surroundings than to Luthor. I looked at the limp bodies of Robin, Zatanna, Pete Ross, Jakeem and the Mad Hatter scattered across the room. We had to move the battle out of this room before someone was killed.

"Supergirl," I cried out, "the others...."

Supergirl glanced at me and I waved at the bodies. I don't think she realized, until that moment, that they were there. Her momentary distraction cost her. Luthor connected solidly and she sailed backwards across the room and through one of the holes in the wall. I flew after her, catching her before she hit the far end of the corridor. She groaned, barely conscious. I turned and saw Luthor jet through the opening after us. He grinned.

"What, back for more, Diana? I'll be happy to oblige you."

I placed Supergirl gently on the floor and braced myself.

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Once Diana left, I wobbled over to Etrigan. Although the smoke was starting to dissipate, his body was too hot to touch. He didn't appear to be breathing. Did Demons need to breathe? I cursed my ignorance; I should have been prepared for this possibility. He appeared to be intact and I knew, from past experience, that he was tough; probably, he would be all right. I pressed the hypospray against his neck, on the off-chance it would help; but Etrigan was clearly out of the battle.

I spotted something out of the corner of my eye and threw myself flat as Supergirl sailed overhead, followed by Diana. I was about to get up, when Luthor flew past. None of them seemed to notice me. At least that left me free to check out the room beyond. From the look of Supergirl, I doubted she would be of much help to Diana. I needed to find some back-up – the more powerful, the better – fast.

The room was a shambles: what little furniture there had been was all shattered, craters dotted the walls and there was debris everywhere.

I hurried over to Zatanna. She didn't appear seriously injured. I pressed the hypospray against her neck and waited.

After a moment, her head rolled from side to side and she murmured, "Just a few more minutes, Dad. I'll get up in a few minutes." Then she started snoring.

I moved on to Gypsy. She was in a heap next to the wall and her breathing was shallow. I checked her over carefully. She was definitely concussed and I thought she had re-injured her shoulder. She needed medical attention urgently, but that wasn't possible until we dealt with Luthor.

I quickly checked Robin, Jakeem and Ross. None were as badly hurt as Gypsy, but it was clear that they would be no help. That left me.

I looked down at the Swiss army knife still in my hand. I heard a dull boom! from the corridor. Diana was fighting Luthor single-handedly out there. I took in a deep breath and let it out, shuddering. Yes, Luthor, I'm coming for you with a Swiss army knife. Diana and I are going to take you down. I don't know how, but we're JLA: we'll find a way.

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I dodged Luthor's energy blast, then darted forward and hammered him with all my strength. He took a step back, then smiled. I barely dodged his return blow and flew back a few steps. We squared off again.

For all the battering Supergirl, Etrigan and I had given it, Luthor's armor only showed a few minor dents and some scratches and smudges – except for the center of the chest. There, it looked like Luthor had been hit dozens – if not scores – of times, each minor dent and scratch on top of the next. Supergirl must have been concentrating on that spot, hoping to wear her way through the armor. It seemed as good a strategy as any. I flew forward and delivered a staggering blow to the center of his chest.

Only Luthor didn't stagger, and his return blow caught me on the side of the head, a glancing blow that knocked me back. I bounced off the side wall, then barely ducked under Luthor's energy blast. I flew forward again and struck at his chest, this time pulling back in time to avoid his response.

As we fought, we had drifted into and then down another corridor, this one perpendicular to the long corridor. Now, behind Luthor, I saw Supergirl stagger around the corner. Afraid Luthor would turn and spot her while she was vulnerable, I dove forward and planted my fist in his chest. This time, **his** fist caught me on the shoulder and my arm – my left, fortunately – went numb. I twisted out of the way of Luthor's energy blast – his responses were becoming predictable – and kicked out. Luthor staggered back a couple of steps and I took the break to fly further down the corridor – and draw him further away from Supergirl.

Luthor grinned at my retreat. "Getting tired, Wonder Woman? I can keep it up all day. But, as enjoyable as it's been, I think it's time to finish this."

I caught Supergirl's hand signals and nodded. Luthor looked surprised, so I said, "I think so too, Luthor. You think you can finish me? Then come and try." I took a step back and beckoned him forward.

Luthor scowled and flew towards me, coming on faster and faster. If he connected, I would be a blue, gold and red smear on the wall – mostly red. I had to time this just right.

I waited until he was going too fast to change course, then I stepped aside, grabbed his arm as he passed and yanked.

He yelped and cart wheeled down the corridor, smashing deep into the wall beyond. As he started to get up, I yelled, "Now!"

Around the corner zoomed Supergirl, accelerating the whole way. A look of surprise spread over Luthor's face, but that was all he had time for. Supergirl hit the center of his chest with a concussion that knocked me off my feet and tossed me up the corridor. I smashed into the wall at the far end. I got shakily to my feet and looked back down the corridor. The far end was gone, replaced by a tunnel whose far end disappeared into darkness. No, not darkness: a phosphorescent glow lit the far end. It had to be at least forty feet deep. The walls of the tunnel had been melted to glass by the heat of the impact.

"Diana!"

At Bruce's shout, I turned and looked down the other corridor. He dropped something from his hand and ran towards me. He weaved as he ran and I started towards him, only to discover I was no steadier on my feet. We met and embraced, holding each other up.

Then Bruce asked, "Supergirl? Luthor?" Arm around his shoulder, I led him around the corner and just pointed.

Bruce gaped. Then he pointed at the phosphorescent glow. "She must have ruptured the containment on the suit's plutonium power cells. She's breathing in plutonium dust."

We stared at each other. "With the way her power level has fluctuated lately," Bruce said, "I don't know what that will do to her."

"I'll get her."

"Hold your breath."

I nodded and lifted off the ground, flying slowly and unsteadily. Halfway down the corridor, I took a last deep breath and sped up. The heat in the tunnel was almost overwhelming. Fortunately, the glow from Luthor's ruptured suit helped me find Supergirl. I grabbed her under the arms and lifted. Normally, it would be effortless; not now. I gritted my teeth and flew back down the corridor. Once well away from Luthor and the plutonium, I sucked in a gasping breath. My flying steadied. I stopped in front of Bruce.

"I think I know how to help Supergirl. Luthor should be safe, sealed inside his suit."

"Do it."

I nodded and flew away, Supergirl in my arms.

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I watched Diana fly away and turned back to face the gaping chasm where Luthor lay trapped in his armor. Diana wasn't thinking clearly. Without power, Luthor would lose air and cooling. Even if he hadn't been seriously injured by that last cataclysmic impact, he would quickly suffocate or die of heat prostration. It would serve him right; it would be only justice for all the death and misery he had caused; it....

I snarled and tore a strip off my shirt. I wrapped it around my lower face; it should provide some protection. Then I trudged down the corridor to rescue a man who didn't deserve it.

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I flew down corridor after corridor. I knew there had to be one down here, somewhere.

"Halt! Who goes there?"

I halted in mid-air. Two soldiers had materialized around the corner up ahead. I was in no shape for a fight, but if I had to....

One of the soldiers saluted. "Wonder Woman! We have orders to assist any and all super heroes we encounter. What can we do?"

It took a moment for his words to penetrate, and another for my mind to accept them.

"There are people back there who need medical assistance. Take this corridor, turn right at the third cross corridor, then left, then left again. Do not go right at the last intersection: there is radioactive contamination down that way."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Oh, and do you know where there is a fire hose?"

The soldier looked blank, but the other soldier said, "Down this corridor, take the second right. I saw one in a little alcove on the right hand side."

"Thank you."

We headed off in opposite directions. I found the fire hose where the soldier had said. I put Supergirl down and unwound the hose far enough to allow me to hold the nozzle in her mouth. Then I cranked the wheel full open. Water spurted out of her mouth, taking with it – I hoped – the plutonium dust from her lungs and throat. I kept it up as long as I dared, shutting it off only when Supergirl started struggling. I put her head in my lap, holding her as she coughed up water. She looked up at me.

"Where... Wonder Woman. Is it over? Did we win?"

I nodded. "We won."

Author's Notes: It may be over for Luthor, but not for Diana and Bruce. One more chapter to go!

Batman thwarted Luthor's scheme to control Gotham at the end of No Man's Land, as chronicled in the "No Man's Land Volume 5" trade paperback. Supergirl's power level changes occurred in the last couple of years of her now defunct comic.


	30. A Proper Ending

Chapter 30: A Proper Ending

All characters are the property of DC Comics. No money is being made on this story and no infringement of copyright is intended.

I flew over Wayne Manor just after sunset. I thought of the last time I had done so. It seemed like an eternity ago; it had been exactly four weeks. Two of the Sundays we had tried – and failed – to have dinner together. The third Sunday we had eaten together, but not here. The last Sunday we had not been speaking to each other. I did not have much hope for tonight, either.

I landed on the front drive and walked up the steps to the door. As before, the door opened before I had a chance to knock, but this time Alfred looked grave. He ushered me in and closed the door.

"How is he, Alfred?"

"Physically, Miss Diana, he is well. Master Bruce has always healed quickly, a decided virtue in his line of work. This time, he has excelled himself. Mentally, however," Alfred paused and then shrugged. "He has been down there in the Cave for three days... and nights. While I would normally applaud his decision not to play the vigilante until his wounds have healed, he refuses to talk and barely touches the meals I bring him. If he sleeps at all, I haven't observed it. When I reminded him that Miss Cassandra is presently bed-ridden; that Master Tim has been grounded by his father once more; and that Master Dick is fully occupied in making up for lost time in Bludhaven, he said, 'Let Huntress handle it.' Then he refused to say another word."

I gaped at him. "But he doesn't trust Huntress."

"No," replied Alfred dryly, "he doesn't. I have remonstrated with him, but he refuses even to look at me. Master Dick stopped by yesterday. He left after fifteen minutes, with much slamming of doors and grinding of gears. Miss Barbara came by this morning, at my urging. She stayed a little longer, but with no greater success. Master Tim has called several times. I believe he is secretly relieved that Master Bruce will not speak to him; he anticipated a dressing down for allowing Luthor to sneak up on him. I am at my wit's end, which is why I was so bold as to call you."

We started up the stairs. "Of course you should have called me; but I don't understand. Can he be working on a case?"

"He has disabled the security monitors in the Cave, so I cannot say what, if anything, he is doing. He is always at the computer when I go down there, but he immediately shuts down what he is working on when he becomes aware of my presence. However, on one occasion, he had the large monitor screen filled with a photograph of you, Miss Diana. He erased it, of course, as soon as he saw me. He appeared embarrassed."

I stopped and stared at Alfred. After a moment, he resumed climbing the stairs and I joined him.

Alfred continued, "I have never before observed him to work on a case while in civilian garb. It may simply be that it is too uncomfortable to pull his uniform on over his bandages; however, Master Bruce has never allowed such concerns to affect his behavior in the past."

"Bandages?"

"His hands were badly burned."

"Of course. Luthor's armor must have been scalding."

"While I, in general, consider the death penalty barbaric, I hope they kill that snake."

I shrugged. "All the people who could directly implicate him are standing mute. I suspect they are still more afraid of Luthor than of being convicted. That may change, once the Justice department is through with them. Whether his boasting before Lois, Lana and the others is admissible evidence remains to be seen; Luthor's attorneys, of course, are hotly contesting it. It takes two eyewitnesses to an act of war committed against the United States to convict for treason, so they may have to settle for a lesser charge. In any case, there is no doubt that the Senate will remove him from office."

"Hmph. I fear that dastard may be at the root of Master Bruce's behavior."

I turned and looked inquiringly at him.

"Master Bruce's words when he returned home, three days ago – almost the only words he has spoken to me – were that he had failed; that Luthor had seen right through his plan; that it was his fault so many fine heroes – Miss Cassandra and Miss Gypsy, in particular – were so badly injured; and that, for all the good he had done, Luthor would now be dictator."

"But that's silly."

"Silly, yes. I used a great many other words, but I believe you have found the most accurate. If I might suggest you tell him so? But I have been remiss. How are the other injured faring?"

"Empress and Jason Blood are both out of danger; Jay Garrick should make a full recovery; J'onn still has trouble controlling his form, and he mourns Scorch, but he is doing better. Mister Terrific... Doctor Mid-Nite says he could come out of his coma tomorrow... or never."

Alfred closed his eyes. "Every night, when he leaves, I pray that he will come home again." He opened his eyes. "And now I am concerned because he is not playing the hero. Puck was right: we mortals **are** fools."

"How are Batgirl and Gypsy doing?"

"Quite well, actually. I must admit I was surprised when Master Bruce insisted that Miss Gypsy come here to recuperate, but it has worked out very well. She and Miss Cassandra keep each other company. I doubt I could have kept Miss Cassandra abed this long, were it not for Miss Gypsy."

"What do they do?"

"Play poker, mostly. I fancy I have quite the poker face, in general, but it took only one game to make me admit I was out of my league. Between a lady who reads minds and one who reads bodies, I would quickly have been shorn of my meager savings. Although, I admit, they do not actually play for money... or anything else that I can determine. It is really quite a sight: they hardly glance at their cards and spend most of their time staring at each other. Then, more often than not, one folds and they deal out another hand."

"It sounds like Gypsy is honing her new ability."

"Quite."

"You know, there is still a furor in Washington over the disappearance of Batgirl's 'body'. Senator Wilkinson is quite incensed over the matter."

Alfred sniffed something about incompetents who don't bother to check for a pulse. "Although, if she had not been wearing body armor under her clothes, I shudder to think of what would have happened."

I nodded at that. We had reached the study and now paused in front of the Grandfather clock that hid the entrance to the Batcave. I grimaced. "I don't know if I can help, but I do have some news that might shake him up a bit. It's the reason I couldn't come sooner: I had to consult with the healers on Themyscira."

"Good news?"

"I doubt Bruce will think so."

"Some intimate matter involving Master Bruce and yourself?"

"You could say that."

"Then I suspect Master Bruce may come around quicker than you expect; and that your news will be joyfully received in other quarters."

I turned to look at Alfred in puzzlement and found him positively beaming. Enlightenment dawned. I blushed. "No, no, nothing like that!"

Then I laughed. "That would be something, wouldn't it? No, my news is nothing so dramatic. I'm sorry if my reticence misled you, but I feel I should tell Bruce first."

"Ah, then I will be in the kitchen, preparing dinner." Alfred bowed and turned away.

I stared at the Grandfather clock. I did not look forward to the scene I anticipated, but delay would change nothing. I stepped forward and carefully moved the hands to the correct time. The clock swung out of the way, revealing a doorway. I stepped through and into the Batcave. The Grandfather clock swung closed behind me.

It seemed gloomier and felt colder than usual. Probably just my imagination. Quietly, I tiptoed down the stairs. I felt guilty trying to sneak up on Bruce so I could see what he was doing, but I needed to understand what was going on.

I rounded a corner and saw Bruce, in a blue sweat suit, sitting in front of the giant computer screen.

"... worry. I have constructed several cover stories that you can use to explain the money. These are contained in the file 'Tim's trust fund'." Bruce paused, then continued. "How you use the money is entirely up to you, but I strongly urge you to consider taking a few years off and going to college. There is a whole world distinct from crime fighting out there and many other ways to do good. Don't wait until it's too late to discover that. End file, 'To Tim'."

He rested his head in his hands for a moment, and then sat back up straight. "Open file, 'To Diana'. Diana ...."

He paused and I quickly strode down the stairs, my footsteps echoing through the Cave. I could not eavesdrop on this.

Bruce turned and glanced up the stairs. His face brightened momentarily at the sight of me, then almost immediately shut down. He turned away.

"I'm busy."

"That's all right, go right ahead," I told him breezily.

"It's private. Go away."

"I can't do that, Bruce; we need to talk." I giggled. "Alfred thought I was pregnant."

Nothing.

"When I went back for you, you weren't there; just a soldier giving CPR to Luthor. I didn't need the soldier to tell me who had rescued Luthor, or that you were long gone. But I had hoped to hear from you; I thought you had something you wanted to say to me, something you started to tell me on Themyscira, before Luthor interrupted us."

Still nothing. I would have to take this bull by the horns.

"I overheard a little of what you were dictating for Tim. It sounded like a last will and testament."

He turned back to me and the set expression on his face told me the answer. My throat closed up; it was hard to force out the words. "How... how long?"

"There hasn't been any swelling of the lung tissues, so it will probably be from cumulative scarring and fibrosis. That means I have a month, more or less. It will get harder and harder to breathe, until I can't anymore."

I thought about that. "It was Luthor, wasn't it?"

He laughed harshly. "Yes, Luthor. He would have died in there, so I went in and dragged him out. I breathed in enough plutonium dust that I fog up photographic film: I tried it when I got back to the Cave. I followed the recommended treatment: one gram of CaDTPA followed by a gram of ZnDTPA; but I knew it wouldn't do any good. So Luthor got his wish after all – he killed me. I wonder if he'll get as much satisfaction out of it as he anticipated."

"Is there nothing that could be done?"

"Lung transplant, followed by a bone marrow transplant, but there are long waiting lists for both. I wouldn't take it anyway: I would be taking them away from people who need them to live. I won't save myself at the cost of someone else's life."

"No."

"Unlike ordinary radiation sickness, it shouldn't affect the gonads. Do you want to try to make a baby?" he asked, only half-joking. "Alfred would be ecstatic."

"What about Luthor?"

"I don't want Luthor's baby."

"Given your biting sarcasm, I take it he wasn't affected?"

Bruce sighed. "He wasn't breathing at that point. I probably breathed a little of the plutonium into his lungs while doing CPR. It'll increase his risk of lung cancer; but given those smelly cigars he likes, I doubt it'll matter much. In any case, it usually takes decades to develop. I'm fairly sure he'll find some way to get himself killed before then."

I thought about what Bruce had said; then I thought about the news I was bringing. I laughed.

"You think this is funny?" he snarled.

"Given the news I have, yes, I do. However, before I tell you, I would like you to prove to me you are dying. Is there some test?"

He sighed again; then he got up, careful not to use his hands, which were heavily bandaged. I followed him to the Infirmary.

He turned to me, looking embarrassed. "It's a urine test."

I smiled. "I'll turn my back." I did and listened to him do what was necessary.

"You can turn around now."

I did and watched him use both hands to put the container into some sophisticated-looking device. "Computer, test for plutonium level in sample."

"Working."

He turned back to me. To break the uncomfortable silence, I said, "I keep wondering what Gypsy showed the Thunderbolt to frighten him so."

"She showed him the future, if he continued to obey Luthor."

I almost asked, 'Did she tell you that?', but stopped in time. He had deduced it, of course. Instead, I said, "No wonder he paid attention to Barbara's arguments."

Bruce just grunted. After a moment, he asked, "How are the others doing?"

I told him what I had told Alfred.

"And Ross?"

"He's recovered, but he plans to retire from politics at the end of his term of office. I think that's a wise decision. There is talk, however, that Lana should run for office. She impressed a great many people in Washington and her testimony before Congress has gotten a lot of play in the media."

"She'd be a fool to go along with it. Our political system is not kind to the honest and idealistic."

"But she is just the sort of person this country needs in high office. Would you have her turn her back on the good she could do, just because the job is difficult?"

Bruce grunted again. He seemed to find something fascinating about his slippers. "And Luthor?"

"He has second-degree burns on the back of his legs and his posterior," I grinned, "from you dragging him over the hot surface of the tunnel Supergirl blasted, I imagine. Otherwise, he's fine. I'm not sure they will be able to convict him of treason."

"No, but they'll pin something on him. As a convicted felon, he won't be able to hold office. And his financial empire is finished."

"Oh?"

"LexCorp stock price has tumbled, of course. My stockbroker has standing orders to buy whenever the price goes below 25. If I don't own a controlling interest now, I have enough stock to ensure he's never reappointed to the board. Talia has been going after his hidden accounts, as I expected. He's still far from penniless, but he'll never again wield the financial power he once did."

"Test complete," announced the computer. "No detectable plutonium in sample."

"What?" Bruce looked up. "That's impossible. Computer, retest the sample."

"Actually, it is not impossible. There is something I need to tell you. When I found you, Bruce, you were dying. You had lost too much blood. I gave you a blood transfusion."

I gently took his hands as we both remembered what J'onn had said:_ I would recommend you not give blood unless it is absolutely necessary. I am not sure what effect it would have on the recipient._ Now we knew.

I started to unwrap the bandages. "My blood is magic, as am I. Along with my blood, you received a portion of that magic. I suspected it when you recovered so rapidly. You were all but dead, Bruce; you should never have been able to stand and walk under your own power so soon. As soon as I could get away, I visited the healers on Themyscira. They confirmed my guess.

"As you know, I heal very rapidly. You have **temporarily**" I emphasized that word, "gained a portion of my healing power. They told me that this should begin to fade very shortly. In a few weeks, it should be gone entirely."

I rubbed my fingers gently over his uncovered hands. The skin was pink but healed. "I know how you feel about magic. I'm sorry if this upsets you."

"Upsets me? UPSETS ME?" He reached out and pulled me to him. "I thought I was going to die when I had finally found a good reason for living."

There was only one possible response to that. However, we had hardly begun when the computer spoke, "Retest complete. No detectable plutonium in sample."

We looked at each other. Bruce murmured, "Perhaps we should take this upstairs."

I glanced down and then looked up into his eyes. "I would be happy to take **this** upstairs," I told him demurely. Then I picked him up in my arms and flew him up the stairs.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later, lying in Bruce's arms, I said, "I think you should send those files you made to Tim and the others; or, better still, tell them in person. Don't wait until you're dead and dying."

"I'll... think about it."

"You know, we were in such a hurry that we forgot about protection. Perhaps Alfred will get his wish, after all."

I saw the horror in Bruce's eyes and giggled.

Outside the door, Alfred heard the giggle and smiled. He positioned the food trolley just to the side of the door. When Master Bruce and Miss Diana finished with their present activities, they would find dinner waiting for them. As for himself, he would spend a comfortable evening with The Bard, without having to worry about his charge, for a change. All in all, he thought, it was a very proper ending to a particularly nasty business.

THE END

Author's Notes: I got my description of the effects and treatment of plutonium inhalation off the web. Not being medically enabled, if I got anything wrong, I apologize. And, yes, plutonium levels are monitored with a urine test.

I did not anticipate, when I started this story, that it would take ten months for me to tell it. Partly it is Luthor's fault: he proved far harder to nail than I originally anticipated. But, mostly, it is mine. I apologize to you, my readers, and heartily thank you for hanging in there. I hope it was worth the wait. This will be my last story for the foreseeable future. I am going to try to write a novel. I figure the over 80,000 words I've written about Bruce and Diana makes a decent-sized novel, so why not go for it? While I may write an occasional short story as a break from novel writing, I won't be doing any longer stories until I have either completed the novel or given up on the idea. So wish me luck. Without Batman to do my planning for me, I'm going to need it.

Rick Peterson November, 2004


End file.
